Mightiest of Guns
by inflammatorywrit
Summary: She had assumed he had lived a less than idyllic life, but not the extent of the violence inflicted upon him. So many things started to make sense: from Merle, to his hard resolve, to the almost wistful way that she would catch him watching her with her family. Lightly, she traced the scarring with her fingers - as though reading a book of braille, desperate for answers. Daryl/OC
1. Chapter 1

**Mightiest of Guns**

Author's Note_:_

_Title is from a song by the beautiful American folk artist AA Bondy. Reviews are always appreciated! Will be doing my best to update regularly but as any other university students can attest for, it's not always easy. I'm really liking the direction of this one so far. Possibilities feel endless! Obviously I don't own TWD or Daryl Dixon's likeness (though we all wish we did). Enjoy! xxx_

You liked your coffee black. With one ice cube. You could always guess what track the train was going to arrive on. You took piano lessons until you got frustrated and quit. You lost your virginity to Malcolm Gallagher, remember him? He had those heavy lidded eyes you always liked. Made him look like he was always missing sleep. You imagined he stayed awake reading the kind of books you liked..

Reciting facts about herself, as though revising for an exam. Holding on to all the little bits of her to keep them from slipping away. The quirks and desires and memories that day by day were becoming more and more irrelevant. Trying to hold onto anything to keep her from turning into another empty, primal, survivalist machine.

Kristen McCoy lay awake, sprawled across the back of her '96 Buick Roadmaster. Two bodies flanked her on either side. Val's head resting on her chest, the little girl's hand clenched fiercely around Kristen's sweater. She had left her favorite stuffed animal at home. Leave it to a child to be faced with the end of the world and be more concerned about a stuffed cat. At least Val was finally sleeping.

Liam on the other hand was restless. Sleeping head to foot with the girls, his feet were burrowed under Kristen's left arm. He had come dangerously close to kicking her in the chin several times during the night. Kristen didn't know if it was physical discomfort or fear that kept her younger brother awake but her heart ached with each of his little jerking movements.

In the front seat Sean didn't even make an attempt to sleep. The eldest boy left in the family, he had taken on some kind of patriarchic protectiveness. The bat lay in the seat beside him. The gun in his lap. Kristen still didn't know where he had gotten the gun. The weapon had made it's appearance as suddenly as all of this trouble had. She didn't know where he had learned to hold and shoot it. She didn't want to know.

Sean was smart. Too smart for his own good. But he was also a dangerous combination of reckless and fearless. Kristen had done her best with him. Always made sure that he had (most) of his homework done. Made sure that he made it to school clean and fed. But when it came to discipline, she found that she couldn't scold him the way she could the younger children. She only had five years on him and no 20 year old boy is going to jump at the chance to listen to his 25 year old sister. And to her shame, when the bills were late or Val's birthday was coming up, and Sean came home with large amounts of suspicious cash - she'd just shut up and take it gratefully.

Kristen moved ever so slightly to a more inclined position. Val stirred against her chest but didn't wake. Her grip on Kristen's sweater tightened. Kristen's voice was slight and soft but she knew that the sound would drift over to her brother. He was too alert to possibly not catch her words.

"Seany, how does it look out there?"

He replied without looking at her, keeping his eyes on the horizon. "The coast looks pretty clear. Too many goddamn people around here though. It's making me jumpy."

Kristen nodded silently. The four of them were almost more wary of the other survivors than they were of those…things. When things had started to take a turn for the worse, chaos broke out in their lower-class Boston neighborhood. People turned on each other, robbing and looting those who had previously been friend and neighbor. Someone had smashed in the windows of their little duplex for reasons that Kristen would never fully understand. Everyone in the neighborhood knew well enough that her family wouldn't have anything worth looting. If anything, the neighbors were afraid that the family's impoverished state would lead them to desperation, crime, violence.

Kristen couldn't blame them. Her family's reputation wasn't the brightest in their Southside neighborhood. 'Classic American white trash of the New England variety.' Her father used to call them that with a perverse sense of pride. Hold his tallboy in the air and drink a toast to the peeling wallpaper and musty furniture of their dilapidated home.

Sean and Liam's father had been ashamed of their poverty. He had done his best to try and fix up the ramshackled home. There was a still a half finished addition off the back porch. When his time to leave came, he took his tools with him. The only remnants of his existence: a half painted hallway and some unfinished drywall. And obviously Sean and Liam.

They had never met Val's father. All she knew was that he was an Italian. Where Val got her rich dark hair and her brown eyes. Her lovely name, Valentina. Kristen was 17 when Val was born. She would hold her up, look in those big brown eyes, and say her name over and over. Valentina. Val En Tine Ah. Like every syllable was the line in a poem. Valley Girl, Tiny Tina, Val. She was the love of Kristen's life.

Sean and Liam were the product of good old Irish Catholic, Boston blood. Bright blue eyes, smatterings of freckles, red copper hair and redder tempers to match. Kristen had really thought that when her mother brought their father home that it was going to last. She had tricked herself into feeling some security. The man was even kind to her. When things inevitably fell apart and the family was in even greater shambles than before, she promised to not make that mistake again.

Her own father had been a German man. A rail mechanic, he had been very skilled with his hands. Especially when he was using them to crack open a beer or count out his paychecks at the races. His German efficiency. Kristen was four when he left. Eight when he stopped calling or visiting. Still, sometimes she still recognized traces of him within her. Her golden brown hair, her long fingers, her strongly Germanic name. She was nine when she took on her mother's last name. In a school of Irish Catholics, Kristen Wilhemina Weber made her the butt of more than one cruel joke. She wanted the same last name as her siblings.

Mother. A dark and selfish part of Kristen's mind was grateful that her mother wasn't here for this. Manipulative, needy, selfish, emotionally unstable and chemically dependent. Maura McCoy would be nothing but trouble in these times. A volatile element, distracting Kristen from protecting the kids. Her kids.

They were strangely apt with dealing with the chaos of the world now. When the news reports and neighborhood rumor mill made it obvious that it was time to clear out of the populous neighborhood, Liam and Val had packed up without any hesitation. Without any tears or moaning. They were used to it. Countless times, Kristen had made them do the same thing. Packed them in the back of this same station wagon, weighed down with toys and sleeping bags. Impromptu camping trips whenever she got a tip that child services was planning a visit. Anything to keep the family together. Kristen, Sean, and Liam had all spent a few dark months in foster care while Maura was in and out of rehab for the third time. It was something that Kristen was desperate to spare Val.

Her thoughts turned back to Maura. Kristen doubted that Maura was still alive. With Maura hooked on methamphetamines and prescription pills, Kristen had spent her teen years trying to keep track of her brothers. Help them with their homework, try to feed them the freshest food their foodstamps would allow. When Maura came home pregnant one night, Kristen made it her mission to ensure the baby be born healthy. Daily, she'd replace her mother's pills with prenatal vitamins. Things had calmed down after Val's birth. Maura was even staying clean all through the nursing period. Then one night she went out. Coming out of a particularly good high, she decided another baby just wasn't what she wanted.

The nursing stopped, Val's diaper went unchanged. Kristen missed her senior year of high school having to take care of the baby. All of Sean's money went towards formula.

One day Liam got himself sent to the principal's office for getting into a fight. His punishment was immediate suspension. Sean was working and Maura had lost her license after a DUI. Kristen rushed out to pick him up, leaving Baby Val with an uncharacteristically subdued Maura. A ten-minute trip, she thought the napping baby would be fine. They came home to find Maura strung out and laughing to herself on the floor. Val crying, bundled up in a laundry basket, balanced precariously on the ledge of the open second story window. Liam flew across the room to grab his little sister. Kristen went into a rage, barely stopping herself from kicking her mother on the ground.

That day she made Maura leave for good. The woman barely even put up a fight. She protested at first over the rights to the house but the deed was still in the name of Christoph Weber. If anything, the house was Kristen's.

For the first few weeks, Kristen found herself guiltily watching the news every night for any sign of her mother. She'd call the same hospitals, asking if any women were brought in for overdoses, just as she and Sean had done when Maura was a regular in their lives. She'd ask around the neighborhood, the men she knew her mother screwed around with. The men she knew doped her mother up. It seemed that nobody had heard from Maura McCoy. One night, on her way to work, she spotted her mother in the booth of a 24-hour Waffle House. Kristen tentatively entered the restaurant and sat across from her mother. The woman stared right through her, her eyes sunken in - her expression hollowed. Kristen reached into her purse, paid her mother's check, and left.

It was the last time any of the McCoys had seen their mother.

After that, their little family unit had grown closer knit. Val grew into a happy and healthy kid, Liam into a troublesome but kind teenager and Sean into a strong willed young man. Kristen grew into the polar opposite of her parents. She got her GED and worked nights as a barmaid, getting little sleep during the day as she kept the house and cooked and cleaned. Got the kids from school. Took Val to Girl Scouts. Taught her to bake cookies and nurse her teddy bear's wounds.

They had to scrimp and save every day to get by. Liam had to work after school to help with the bills. Sean had to put any college plans on hold to work full time. Kristen had to invest in a few pushup bras and flirt her darndest with the male bar patrons to keep her tips high. But with the help of a few close friends, neighbors, and of course one another - they always made it through.

That was why when news reports started coming through about some strange infectious disease, one that made people irrational and violent, Kristen wasn't too worried about it. The McCoy kids had been around enough junkies in their short lives to not be too fazed by the irrational and violent.

It wasn't until the habits of her most devoutly alcoholic bar patrons changed that she began to fear that something was seriously wrong. One night the phone at the nearly empty bar rang around 2am. Answering it, Kristen heard a frantic Liam on the other end. The neighborhood was in chaos. People fighting in the streets, screams and gunshots. The infection had reached their little neighborhood.

Kevin, Kristen's manager gave her the baseball bat he kept under the bar, opened the cash register thrusting a large wad of twenty dollar bills in her hand, and made her leave immediately. Sean had already gotten Val and Liam packed up when she arrived home. Grabbing aimlessly at her own clothing, Kristen quickly threw her belongings into a large duffel bag. They loaded up into the old Roadmaster and left.

Sean and Liam had received a call from their father. The man was indeed still kind enough and was worried about his distant children. Now working as a kitchen supervisor at a naval base in Florida, he seemed to think that the south coast was the safest place to wait the infection out. He urged them to make the trip if they thought it was safe. Seeing little other choice, they waited in a long line for gas.

Kristen muttered a small pray of thanks for the generosity of her employer. Without him emptying the cash register into her pocket, they would have been sorely unprepared for this impending disaster. The furnace had conked out the week before and it had been a bundle to replace the parts. Kristen was not met with any relief when she realized that she no longer needed to worry about the state of their furnace.

They drove for days and days. The roads were still busy with travelers at this point. The gas stations and minimarts still open, albeit with highly inflated prices. The farther south they got though, the more desperation and horrors they witnessed.

The first time they saw one of the infected, none of them could believe their eyes. It seemed too cliché. Like 'Night of the Living Dead.' Kristen thought the infected would at least look a bit more original. When it got closer though, any curiosity she may have felt was replaced with pure carnal terror. Sean was poised with the bat raised, ready to take a swing if it got any closer to their car. A fellow traveler stepped out though and smashed it's head in with a hammer. "You have to go for the brains."

He said it so matter of fact. He had just killed a sick person. Kristen couldn't control herself from running over to the body. All of her protective and maternal instincts kicked in. But as she knelt near the infected body, a sense of pervasive sickness took over her. This wasn't human. The body was decaying from the inside out, a horrific grimace overtaking its face - even in it's second death. Go for the brains. They would remember that.

By the time they reached Georgia the roads were clearing out of people. They thought it would only be a day or two before they reached Florida.

Then they came to the outskirts of Atlanta. Smoke was still rising from the bombed out city. Hundreds of cars parked on the roads in a standstill. Everyone seemed frozen in place. Unable to continue down the road and obviously not able to drive through Atlanta, they parked the car alongside the others and tried to rest for a spell.

Now here they were, the only one resting was Val. But for now, that was enough.

The next day they decided to stick around and try and see what necessities they could salvage from the abandoned cars.

Kristen thought that the presence of other healthy people would be good for Val. Show her that there was still some normalcy in the world. Val had even found a playmate. Only a few short hours after taking stock of their remaining supplies, Val appeared with a slim blonde girl at her side.

"Krissy, this is Sophia. Is it okay if we go play by her truck?"

Kristen had smiled warmly at the girl but her eyes were still wary.

"Hello Sophia. Does your family know that you wandered off? I'm sure they'll be very worried about you."

The blonde girl's face turned bright red. Suddenly she seemed very fearful, as though the possibility of her getting into trouble meant something much more serious. Kristen recognized the signs that she herself had exhibited as a child. Anxieties she desperately kept Val from experiencing.

"Oh honey, it's okay. I'm sure your mom will be so happy that you found a friend." She reached out and placed a hopefully reassuring arm on the small girl.

"Sophia? Sweetie? Where are you?" A frantic voice could be heard from a few parked cars over. Sophia seemed relieved to hear that it was her mother's voice and not someone else's.

"I'm over here mama! I'm with my new friend Val-en-tine-ah." Kristen couldn't help but smile at the young girl's enunciation.

Sophia's mother made her way over to the small group. Her face was the same shade of red that Sophia's had turned and her brow was deeply furrowed. She ran a hand through her shortly cropped silvering hair. "Sophia, I told you not to leave the truck without me or your father. I was so worried that something had happened to you."

"I'm sorry Mama. We were just asking if Val could come and play."

"Yes, I'm sure it's okay. At least until your father gets back from looking for more gasoline." For the first time, the shorthaired woman noticed Kristen. "I'm so sorry, I hope she wasn't bothering you."

"Not at all! Valley was getting pretty sick of just being stuck with me." Kristen wrinkled her nose playfully at her little sister.

"She seems like a very sweet child. I'm sorry for being so worrisome. You know what it's like being a mother though. Always something to worry about."

For a moment, Kristen wasn't sure how to correct the woman. She wasn't a mother to any of 'her kids' but she understood what the woman meant more than words could express. Especially now with the way things were, her mind never stopped worrying. If she wasn't worried about their safety, she was worried about them worrying at how much she was obviously worrying.

Luckily, Val saved her from having to decide on what to say. "Krissy isn't my mom. She's just my big sister."

The woman smiled easily but a sad look flashed through her eyes. She probably assumed that their mother was lost to the infection. Kristen didn't see any reason to correct that notion if it was what people were going to assume. Their dirty laundry could stay home in Boston.

"I'm Carol. It's very nice to meet you Krissy."

"Nice to meet you Carol. I prefer Kristen though if it's okay. Krissy makes me sound a bit too much like a ditz."

Val cut in, "But I like calling your Krissy! Missy Kissy Krissy."

"And I like calling you Tiny Teeny Tina but it doesn't mean that you should introduce yourself to strangers that way!" Kristen couldn't help laughing at her little sister. She had already seemed brighter since finding a friend.

"It looks like you're busy with supplies. I don't mind watching the girls for a bit if you want to focus on the task at hand. Our truck is right over there." Kristen wasn't sure what it was but there was something about Carol that struck her as trustworthy. The love that the woman had for her daughter was so genuine and moving that Kristen was certain that Val would be safe with them for a while. Plus, she did have a lot of 'salvaging' she wanted to do and she wasn't sure she wanted her eight year old sister tagging along for that.

Kristen left the girls with Carol and began to wander among the abandoned cars. Liam and Sean had already headed out hours ago, taking the bat, the gun, and a few empty oil cans with them. The plan was to walk and try to find a gas station, abandoned or otherwise. Either that, or they'd be reduced to siphoning gas from parked cars. Kristen smiled wryly at the thought; it certainly wouldn't be the first time the McCoy boys would be guilty of that.

Kristen had been prepared for facing a mess among the abandoned cars, but what she wasn't prepared for were the bodies. Rotting bodies, the majority with gunshot wounds or heavy abrasions to the temple littered many of the cars. Despite whatever riches those cars may hold, she couldn't bring herself to pry open the doors.

After filling her reusable shopping bag with a few found dented cans of chili and a few boxes of stale Saltines, she headed back towards their makeshift camp. She was excited about the chili. It was even better than the generic brand they ate at home. She'd set the hot plate up and make them a little feast. Maybe they could even invite Carol and Sophia for a dinner date…

"Get that thing the fuck out of my face, you redneck asshole!" Kristen's thoughts were suddenly interrupted by an all too familiar voice. It was Sean's 'fighting voice.' She had heard it far too many times in the alleyway after dark, Sean stumbling home after a few too many beers at a party. She heard it when neighborhood assholes picked on Liam. She heard it when patrons at the bar got too grabby with her and word traveled back to him. And now she was hearing it as her brother was face to face with a very dangerous looking weapon. The bat in her brother's hand seemed pretty irrelevant compared to the bow and arrow contraption that was pointed between his eyes. Of course Sean would give the more powerful weapon to his younger brother.

"Wha' the fuck do you think ya doin' with that gas from mah truck?" The man's accent was heavy, his words slightly slurred. A mixture of his southern drawl and possibly some Southern Comfort.

Sean smirked sarcastically. "Well you weren't using it obviously. I'm surprised that heap of shit truck can even run." Leave it to her baby brother to provoke someone when they had an arrow to his head.

The man's muscles tensed, his jaw clenched and his fingers twitched against the trigger of the bow. It was probably less of a blessing and more of a curse that the McCoys had grown unnaturally at ease in volatile situations. Kristen wasn't willing to take the chance that this man was actually going to shoot her brother though.

"Sean, what the hell? I thought you were only siphoning abandoned cars." She strode forward purposefully and physically inserted herself between her brother and the bow. A few inches taller than she, she looked up at the man straight in the eyes, no fear visible in her's. She knew deep down that this man wouldn't shoot her. His 'Southern manners' would most likely never allow him to shoot an unarmed lady.

Instead, he sneered at her. "Wha? You don't think your man here can handle hi'sself?"

She lifted her chin a fraction of a centimeter, crossed her arms the same way she did when she was telling Liam off for getting into fights. "That's not it at all. My brother is perfectly capable of winning a fight. This one just doesn't seem that fairly matched. And my brother is enough of a loose cannon to actually provoke you into shooting him. If you want to lower your weapon, I'll be happy enough to step aside so you two can work things out like gentlemen."

The man appeared dumbfounded but surely, he slowly lowered the bow. Taking advantage of his bewildered state, in one quick motion Kristen raised her fist and sent it flying into his face. The man recoiled instantly, blood steadily but lightly falling from his nose. His expression changed rapidly, shock to anger to curiosity to something she couldn't quite recognize.

"Nobody raises a weapon against my family, you asshole." Kristen spoke calmly. She took Sean by the arm, picked up the gas can, and walked away.


	2. Chapter 2

**MIGHTIEST OF GUNS**

**CHAPTER TWO**

Kristen and Sean lingered in silence for the majority of the walk back to the station wagon. They were both angry with the other and neither seemed sure how to start the conversation.

Sean was irritated with his sister for stepping into the middle of what he saw as 'his fight.' His young, male ego felt threatened. It was a feeling that was all too familiar. Countless times throughout his childhood, his sister had appeared at the playground – always trying to break up his fights.

As they got older, Sean and his peers quickly caught up to her in size and strength. Breaking up a fight no longer involved pulling two small boys apart. She learned to stay on the sidelines and that there was little she could do to control her brother. She was always very displeased but always present in case he got hurt. The irony was that her presence caused Sean to instigate even more violence. He always felt like he needed to prove to her that he was strong. Prove to his sister that now he was a man, he could help be responsible for their family. He could keep them safe.

That is what he had been doing just now with that hillbilly. Taking what his family desperately needed and dealing with the consequences like a man. He hadn't needed for his sister to step in.

Kristen, on the other hand, wasn't sure why she was angry with Sean. It had nothing to do with stealing the gasoline. How could she be angry with that when she was the one who asked him to do it?

No, it was the way that he had handled things with the armed man that had bothered her. She understood that Sean had a lot of pride and that by standing up to the man he was preserving that pride. But things were different now. If he got his nose broken or his eye socket smashed in, she couldn't just take him to the free clinic anymore. She couldn't look out the door each morning, making sure the coast was clear of whatever thugs were after him, before Sean flew on his bike to work or school. She needed him whole and healthy. She needed to know that the family came before his pride. She didn't know how they would all survive without him.

Though both siblings were thinking exactly what the other wanted to hear, they kept their thoughts to themselves.

But hell, who was she to lecture him about the dangers of his pride? She was the one who actually got physically violent with the man. She was the one who had taken the gas can from him. She glanced down at the can in her hand and thoughtfully chewed the inside of her mouth.

What had the man done wrong really? Sean had stolen something he needed as desperately as her own family did. Of course he was going to react aggressively. Hell, maybe he had his own kids that he was trying to get someplace safe.

Kristen's violent actions, and her taking of the gas can, had been driven by nothing other than primal protective instinct. She felt the same way when she saw Val in that laundry basket on the windowsill. The same way she felt when a young Liam came home crying once because some neighborhood kick had stolen his precious bicycle. She had looked the other way that time when Sean instigated a fight.

This sense of familial loyalty and protection had clouded her judgment and made her act irrationally. And there was no room for irrational action any more. Her family didn't need to be making enemies over a can of gasoline at this point. Especially enemies who appeared to be so threatening.

Kristen had been only 19 when she got the job tending bar at Jack Dempsey Tavern. Not even old enough to order a drink yet herself. The bar's owner Kevin knew of her from around the neighborhood. Her dad had been one his regulars. Out of sympathy for her situation and respect for her taking care of her siblings, he let her have the job off books.

The bar had a kitchen and a cook, served dinner each night. Nothing fancy, fare typical of any American diner or Irish pub. Knowing that food money was tight for the McCoys, Kevin always tried to talk Kristen into taking food home with her at the end of the night. It took her two years of working there to finally give in and take a few Styrofoam containers of burgers and Reuben's home with her. Kevin would always affectionately tease her:

"What you McCoys lack in money or sophistication, you sure make up for in stubborn pride."

Kristen was going to have to swallow her pride now. She was going to return the gas can.

They returned to the car to find Liam filling their tank with gasoline. The bridge of his nose was bright red, his freckles blending together in a slight sunburn from the long day spent outdoors. The light reflecting off of the metal of the many cars made his eyes seem even brighter. Right now they were looking at Kristen sheepishly.

"I thought it was probably best to get all the gas in the tank before anyone came to try and get it back."

Kristen smiled wryly at her brother. "You probably thought right." Liam was quiet as far as kids went. The 16 year old always seemed to be physically on the outskirts of the group, taking everything in. Kristen trusted his observational skills above anyone else's. Where Sean was aggressive and impulsive, Liam was analytical and calculating. It was what made them such a successful, and potentially dangerous duo. He noticed Val's absence immediately.

"Where's Val?"

Instinctively, Kristen's eyes quickly scanned the horizon for a sight of Carol and the girls. Not too far off she spied their hunter green cab. Caught a glimpse of the silver haired woman sorting through the trunk. The girls couldn't be far off.

"She's off playing with another little girl. I met the mother earlier. Seemed like a decent and sweet lady."

Sean turned on a start to face his sister. "What the hell, Kris? You just let her go off with strangers? What is wrong with you?"

Offended, Kristen felt the heat rising to her face. No matter how self assured and composed she tried to appear, the apples of her cheeks always betrayed her. Sometimes she would blush at the sound of her own name.

"Relax Sean. I used my best judgment. You know that I would never let Val go off into a potentially dangerous situation."

"Everything is a dangerous situation now! Don't you get that? A man was just going to kill me over a container of gasoline."

"No Sean, he was going to kill you because you were being a prick! The time to act like a tough guy is not when a stranger is pointing an arrow at your brain!"

"Well thank God that you were there to save me then, huh sis? Forget this, I'm going to look for Val." Sean gave his sister one last meaningful glare before storming off.

Kristen stood watching her brother as his figure disappeared among the cars. "That actually didn't go as badly as I was expecting." She knew that Sean was going to have some pent up aggression left over from her breaking up the fight. She hoped now that it was out of his system and they could have an uneventful evening.

Liam was still standing beside the car. As quiet during their argument as ever. She had worried about Liam fiercely when Maura was in the picture. Val had been too little to really be affected by their mother's dysfunction. Kristen could push her own feelings aside because she had to. Sean could never control his. The second something affected him, everyone in the small family knew. But Liam? He was much harder to read. Sometimes Kristen would come home to find Maura passed out on the sofa. Liam sat in the reclining armchair, just watching his mother as she lightly snored through her drug fueled haze. Kristen would always take him by the hand and into the kitchen. Fix him macaroni and cheese and let him put his favorite shows on. Even the ones that she didn't think were appropriate for young boys. Eventually, the unreadable glassy look that he got in his eyes when he watched his mother would fade.

Now, he was looking at her and more specifically, the gas can in her hand. Silently, he reached for it – hoping to top off the rest of their tank. Kristen shook her head. "Sorry, not this one. I think I'm going to return it."

Liam regarded his sister thoughtfully and simply nodded. When Kristen was younger, she immaturely used to get jealous of her brothers. She was sure that they liked each other the best because they were biologically full siblings. She was always afraid that she would be the half sibling out. One of the reasons she had been selfishly happy when Val was born a girl. Now the boys had half sisters as bookends. As they grew older, she realized that Sean and Liam's closeness was just a natural brotherly bond and not some biological tie that she was lacking in. If anything, she and Liam shared the closest mental connection. Liam was the one who would always wait up for her when she worked the closing shift at the bar. He'd crawl out of bed to meet her at the door. He always liked putting the deadbolt on after she got inside.

The teenaged boy nodded towards his sister. "I guess you had better go find him them. Their truck was only a few yards south of where the fight was. I'm guessing it's a safe bet that they're still there. What with you carrying all their gas" He broke out in a playful smile for the first time. Kristen couldn't help but reciprocate, despite the tension of the past half hour.

"Thanks Liam. I found some chili. I'm gonna cook as soon as I get back. You can ask Val if she wants to invite her new friend too."

She slowly weaved her way through the parade of stalled cars. Her steps were purposeful but slightly hesitant. She wasn't exactly sure what she was getting herself into.

She could hear them before she could see them. Parked several yards away from the other cars was a beat up pick up truck and a motorcycle. The engine of the motorcycle was revving repeatedly. "Dumbass," she thought to herself, "that sound is gonna attract dozens of those infected."

The man seemed to notice her presence from yards away. For a moment, Kristen wondered if the men parked so far away intentionally or if everyone else instinctively kept their distance.

The man on the motorcycle narrowed his eyes at her, taking in the gas can and realizing who she was, before breaking out into a toothy grin. "Well looky here baby brother!" he hollered, "If it ain't the girl who busted up Darylina's pretty little face! Git your ass out here baby brother!"

Kristen heard the door to the truck slam as a tall, slim figured strode out before her. She recognized him instantly, even without a bow raised in front of him. His eyes flashed with recognition at the sight of her. She pursed her lips in a strained smile of sorts and silently reached out with the can of gasoline.

"What are ya doin' that for?" He narrowed his eyes and cocked an eyebrow suspiciously at the sight of her offering.

"What does it look like? I'm returning your gasoline to you."

"What did ya do to it?"

"Nothing!" She was here to apologize. Why did they have to make it so difficult? "My brother was wrong to take it from you. I'm sure he honestly thought your truck was abandoned. When you confronted him, his pride just got the best of him"

"Yeah? And he had to send his lil' sister to care of it for him? He's just gonna let a pretty little girl wander away to find some strange men?" The older of the two stepped forward now, clearly trying to intimidate her.

"Come on Merle, lay off." Kristen was surprised to hear the younger one speaking up. He looked up at her, almost apologetically. The older one, Merle, just continued to leer at her.

She could feel irritation building in the pit of her stomach, tinged with a slight feeling of unease. She kept her composure though; she'd faced scarier and uglier men before.

"I'm his older sister, actually." She faced Merle, clearly the elder of the two brothers. "And we're supposed to look out for our younger siblings, right? Maybe you should have been looking out for your younger brother when I bloodied his nose."

For a split second, she wasn't sure how Merle was going to react. Then his voice bellowed with a toothy laugh. "Ah, you's a brave bitch!" He reached over and forcefully patted her arm, causing the gasoline to swirl around the can. "No wonder you were able to scare Darylina here off! I'll be honest though, when Daryl admitted to being hit by a girl, I thought ya had to be one of them big Butch types. Which clearly you ain't." His eyes traveled lecherously down her figure but Kristen held still. Like the countless other bar girls across America, she had built up a high tolerance for testosterone fueled bullshit.

Clearly disappointed at not having garnered a greater rise out of her, Merle quickly lost interest in the situation and returned to working on his bicycle – leaving her with the younger.

She stood silently for a moment, half expecting him to speak. She took the chance to take in his appearance. He looked much less threatening now, standing there looking a bit uncomfortable. His hair was a sandy brown, though it was hard to tell under the layer of grease and grime. Kristen made a mental note to find a way to help Val wash her hair tonight. Maybe Carol would have some ideas. His eyes were the same clear blue shade as her brother's.

She could tell from the way the sleeves of his cotton work shirt constricted around his arms that he had a decent amount of physical strength. But no vanity muscles. Kristen was thoroughly turned off by men with bulging biceps and pectorals. The kind of men who spent hours in the gym, watching their own reflections as they lifted weights. Wanting nothing more than to appear strong and masculine. She preferred the sinewy muscles of hard labor. This man had them in plenty. The same muscles he had used to hold a crossbow to her little brother's head…

Kristen felt her cheeks redden. How had she started to ponder this man's physique? He stood watching her curiously. Suddenly she thrust her arm forward, trying to hand the gas canister over. "This is yours. I just came by to apologize for hitting you. Though, it looks like you'll manage a full recovery."

His eyes flitted down to her outstretched hand before meeting her gaze again. "Nah, you keep it. Merle and I can get more later."

"No, seriously, here. It wasn't ours to take and I'll feel better knowing we gave it back." The familiar dread associated with charity was climbing up her spine. Sometimes she felt that no matter how well her family might be doing, she would never escape that feeling.

He seemed to get frustrated at this. As though it had taken a lot of effort for him to offer her the gas can and he couldn't understand why she wasn't cooperating. "Look, I'm tryin' ta be nice here. I'm sorry I threatened your brother, but he was bein' a little shit. Keep the gas and we'll be even."

"Hardly!" She scoffed, "We were even from the second I smashed your face in. We take this gas and then it's like we owe you." Her voice got smaller, "I don't like owing people."

He regarded her bemused, the corners of his lips twitching at the hint of a smile. "So, y'all would rather steal from someone than accept a gift?"

Kristen set her jaw and straightened her shoulders back. "Yes"

He considered her for a moment and to her great surprised he nodded slowly. "Yeah, I get that." He slowly bent down, leaving the gas can on the ground. "Well, I'm just gonna leave it here. If ya'll don't take it, I'm sure somebody else will."

Kristen couldn't help the small smile that formed on her lips.

The silence that followed almost felt tangible. She didn't know what was left to be said but for some reason she didn't feel like ending the conversation. The man, Daryl, must have been feeling something similar. Rather than turning back to his truck he continued to watch her, nervously chewing the side of his thumb.

"I'll pay you back for the gas. Come for dinner, you can invite your brother if you want. We're having chili."

_Authors Note: Thanks so much everyone for the reviews/follows/favs! Really is a great incentive to update quickly! Tune in next time to see if they ever get to eat their chili._


	3. Chapter 3

**MIGHTIEST OF GUNS**

**CHAPTER THREE**

The invitation to dinner had clearly caught the man off guard. Pursing his lips, he rubbed the back of his neck and let the offer sink in. Kristen could feel a slight flush rise to her cheekbones. "Man, relax. I'm not proposing to you. Just trying to be nice." She couldn't tell if the two of them had more difficultly with showing kindness or accepting it.

He nodded, "Yah, okay. I guess I could eat."

A strange sort of relief washed over Kristen like a permeating wave. She smiled, "Okay then. You want to go invite your brother?"

Daryl glanced over his shoulder at the exterior of his older brother's tent. Merle was nowhere to be seen now. His brow furrowed, a kind of exasperated concern blatant on his face. "Nah, he's probably busy gettin' high by now."

A wary expression took over her face. "You using?" Though largely used to it, she had been hoping to limit the kid's exposure to drug users. There was enough going on as it is.

Daryl shook his head, a faraway expression in his eyes. "You just get right to the personal questions don't ya? Nah, nothing ever stronger than booze or weed. Merle's the one into opiates."

"Oh yeah? What's his poison? Codeine? Hydromorphone?"

Daryl smirked in surprise. "You know your stuff, girl. You lookin' to buy or somethin'?"

"Hell no. Just like to know what kind of junkie I'm dealing with." She picked up the gas can and turned away from the camp. "You coming or not?"

He stood watching her stroll away, as though frozen in place. He hadn't expected for this to happen when he drew his bow on that thieving jackass. Doubt tugged at the corners of his mind. He almost considered just letting her leave without him when she turned back to look at him over her shoulder. Gave him a small, expectant smile.

Following after her just felt natural.

During the walk to her car he was quiet, his face serious. He seemed to be almost shrinking into himself, a far cry from the aggressive man who had threatened Sean before. Kristen wondered if anyone had ever offered to make him dinner. She needed to try and break the shell of silence.

"I'm Kristen, by the way. You never really asked so, thought I'd just say it."

Color crept its way up his weathered face. Daryl knew his social skills weren't entirely up to par. He didn't need her drawing added attention to it. Half the time he was pleased with himself when he managed more conversation than a grunt or a growl.

"Would you relax? I'm just messing with you. I have two brothers; I get that manners aren't every man's strong point." Daryl couldn't help but notice the quiet pride in her smile as she talked about the two men in her life. "In fact, I didn't really think about them when I invited you. Sean isn't going to be too happy when you show up, I'm guessing." She spoke lightly but her forehead wrinkled with worry.

"Ya don't hafta worry 'bout that. I'll be on my best behavior." He felt an odd compulsion to ease her concerns. Felt as though if he didn't, maybe she'd decide to disinvite him. He couldn't explain why he didn't want for that to happen.

She glanced up at him and smiled. "It's not you being on your best behavior that I'm worried about. Sean does tend to hold a grudge. When we were kids once a boy in my class stole his bike. Sean was so pissed but the kid was older, there was nothing he could do about it. Then we get to high school and the kid gets his first car. Sean shows up _at_ the kid's party with a bat. Smashes in all the car windows."

"What happened then?"

Kristen shrugged, an attempt to seem cavalier, but the concern and a deeper sadness were evident in her expression. "That time Sean got his collarbone broken, shoulder dislocated." Shaking off the distant look in her eyes, "He really is a good guy though. Don't know what the kids and I would do without him. That's one of the reasons I tried to return the gas to you. I don't want him going around making enemies."

"You have kids?"

Without thinking, her answer was a resounding "Yes." Because they were her kids. "I have Sean, Val, and Liam. Well, they're not mine. They're my mom's kids. But yeah, they're mine."

"Rest of your family?"

"They've been gone a while now."

Daryl nodded slowly. "I was raised by my brother too. Merle back there." It was completely uncharacteristic for him, sharing personal details of his life. Especially his childhood. He didn't know why he felt comfortable now, especially with someone he had just met. He could only assume that it was their similar experiences. She wasn't going to judge him or openly take pity.

"Oh yeah? You think he did a good job?"

The question threw him off guard. Was she asking if he thought Merle was a good father figure or was she asking if he felt that he was a decent man? He wasn't sure if he knew the answers to either of those questions, let alone if they were answers he could ever share with someone else.

His discomfort was palpable. Kristen cringed slightly at herself. "Sorry, I tend to talk too much. That's what I'm always worrying the most about. You know? Doing a good enough job with the kids. Now with all these infected people, I'm kicking myself that I didn't teach them survivalist skills or some shit." She stole a sideways glance at the toned man beside her. "Looks like Merle did okay with you in that department."

Daryl gave a small grin. "Me and Merle, we've been out hunting for as long as we've been walkin'."

"Hence the bow and arrow?"

He looked at her severely, "It ain't a bow and arrow. It's a _crossbow._ Ya know how to shoot? Seems like everyone should know how to shoot these days."

"No, firearms seem to be more Sean's thing. I'm sure I could find the trigger though."

Daryl looked down at her, his expression suddenly serious. "Get that brother of yours to teach you. All of you. And get your hands on as many guns and ammo as you can. Hell, maybe I'll have a talk with him about it tonight."

His concern was touching, albeit a bit curious. Kristen was grateful that she had invited him along though. It was obvious that the tension between the two families was alleviated, that Sean hadn't made a dangerous enemy. If she could just make sure Sean behaved tonight now…

"What the fuck is he doing here?" As though on cue, Sean appeared. Val and Liam could be seen behind him, sitting on the hood of their old station wagon.

"Relax Sean. This is Daryl. He's just going to have dinner with us. A peace offering for the gas we stole."

"What? So a guy holds a bow and arrow to my head and you just invite him over for a meal? Are you really that stupid, Kris?"

Kristen could feel the man next to her tense up. "Hey, don't talk the lady that way. And it's not a bow and arrow, it's a crossbow."

The focus of Sean's aggression instantly changed from his sister to the tall man before him. "Oh yeah? You think you're just going to come in here now and defend my sister's honor? Like you have any right to comment on our family in the first place. Fucking hillbilly."

Daryl's arms twitched. He didn't have his crossbow with him but Kristen was sure that he must have other weapons somewhere on his person. Even without a knife or a switchblade, she was sure the two men beside her could do serious damage to one another with only their fists.

"Sean! Cool it already." She took a step closer to her brother, so that her voice was nothing more than a low hiss in his ear. "I don't know what you're fucking trying to prove, but you've proved it. There is literally no feasible reason for you to be starting trouble here. So grow a pair of balls and keep them in check. Okay?" Her voice and demeanor softened, "Look, I need you okay. I can't have you going off on every little thing. This family needs you more than ever. And that means trusting me. Have I ever let you down before?"

He looked his sister in the eye, his aggression and anger slowly fading away. She was right. There wasn't a time in his life where his big sister had let him down. If anything, she was the one who constantly put up with him fucking things up. He backed down, though still eyeing the man warily.

"Kris, let me know when dinner's ready. I'm gonna go check things out around the perimeter." He took a step closer to Daryl. "If you do anything to my sister, I swear to God, I will slit your throat."

Daryl couldn't help but smile at the threat. Not a smug or malicious smile. He had to admire the kid for having the balls to stand up to a man with about 15 years and thirty pounds of muscle on him. He respected the kid's protectiveness towards his sister. Daryl could only imagine that he'd be the same way if Merle and he had one.

As Sean walked away, Kristen smiled. "Don't worry, the other kids aren't that scary. At least not in the same way as Sean."

Val came running up to them in a hurry. As though she had been waiting for Sean to leave, a sign that the coast was clear and the fight was over. Kristen's face lit up like a match at the sight of her little sister. "Valley baby! Did you have a good day with your new friend?"

The little girl was out of breath but eager, opening her arms up to hug her older sister. "Yeah! Her mama was really nice too. She let us eat crackers and Cup'O'Soup."

Kristen laughed, "So it was just like home then?"

"Yeah! But then Sophia's daddy came home and we all had to be quiet. He wasn't as nice. But then Seany and Liam came to get me so it was okay. Where did you go?"

The little girl posed the question almost accusatorily, as though a part of her had feared that her sister wasn't going to be coming back.

"I was finding some things for dinner, babe! We're gonna go cook in a second. You wanna help?" As though the sight of her sister had made her forget Daryl's presence she suddenly turned to him. "This is my new friend Daryl. He's gonna have dinner with us. What do you say?"

The little girl regarded him curiously. Daryl was used to kids being afraid of him and expected no difference from the little, dark haired girl. When she formally stuck out her hand to shake his, he was shocked to say the least. "It's very nice to meet you, sir. My name is Valentina McCoy. I'm from Boston. Where are you from?"

Caught off guard, he took the girl's tiny hand in his large one. Slightly grumbling he replied, "I'm Daryl. I'm from around here." He never considered himself to be very good with kids. The little girl continued to beam at him.

Kristen smiled warmly at the sight of them. "So, what were you and Liam up to? Hiding from the dragon that was your big brother?"

Val rolled her eyes dramatically. "He was being so boring. All he wanted to do was work on the car. He promised me that you'd read some more Harry Potter to me tonight."

"Oh did he? Well I guess we could manage that for a little. Before the sun goes down though hun, we have to save the flashlight's batteries. Want to help me get started with dinner?"

The little girl nodded enthusiastically as the three of them approached the station wagon. Liam was leaning into the open trunk, fumbling to lift the cumbersome camping stove. Setting it on the ground, he nodded a greeting to his older sister. His eyes lingered on Daryl, assessing the situation.

"Hey Li, thanks for getting the stove out. And thanks for looking after your sister. Hope Sean didn't take his annoyance with me out on you."

Liam slowly shook his head, his eyes remaining trained on Daryl. "No, he was okay. He got over it."

"Well good. And to prove that he's truly over it, Daryl is going to join us for dinner. He brought you back the gas can." Liam's eyes shot from Daryl's to the offering of gasoline. He seemed slightly less wary because of it. He blinked a sort of greeting to Daryl and took the gasoline, heading over to fill up the remainder of the tank. Daryl wasn't put off by the aloof interaction though. They were both just men of few words.

"Valley, how about you go rummage through the pack and get some plates and silverware. Be sure to wash your hands too. There is some hand sanitizer in my purse." She turned to Daryl, "Why don't you grab one of those camping chairs in the trunk and take a seat. You're the guest."

Daryl did what he was told. Kristen disappeared for a moment, rummaging through a large cooler around the back of the wagon. He was shocked when she reappeared with a beer. "Here, it's pretty warm at this point but it's still fresh enough. I was at work when Sean packed up for us to flee. Clearly, men have their priorities." Daryl sat back and opened his beer while Kristen knelt on the ground to set up the camp stove. It still felt a bit surreal to him that the woman who only hours earlier had smashed him in the nose was now making him dinner, serving him beer. Peace offerings, she called them.

The stove was a classic Coleman, one burner. Pour gasoline or propane into the bottom well, light the igniter and voila: fire. She seemed far more adept at working it than he would have imagined. "You guys big into campin' or somethin'?"

She smiled wryly to herself, clearly remembering things the way they used to be. "Something like that."

"Yeah, something like that." Sean returned from his scouting of the perimeter, grabbing three beers from the cooler before taking a seat on top. He cast a somewhat indignant look at the beer in Daryl's hand before handing one to his sister and calling Liam over for the other. He gestured to the stove. "You have to have something to cook on when the gas and electric bills don't get paid on time. Krissy used to set that fucking thing up right in the middle of the living room like we were in 'Little House on the Prairie.'"

Liam came back from filling the gas tank, opened his beer and took a long swig. Daryl wondered how old the boy was. He couldn't be a day over 16. He looked at his sister and laughed, "Yeah, but she never actually packed it when we went camping."

"Well Liam, that's because when she would take us camping it was usually to the parking lot of a Burger King. Where, if you would recall, you were always able to 'have it your way.'" Sean's anger at his sister had obviously dissipated into nothing more than brotherly teasing.

Kristen looked up from the chili smiling, used to the ribbing from her brothers. "Yeah, and if we hadn't taken those luxurious camping trips both of your asses would have been in group or foster homes."

"Oh beautiful sister, thank you for rising up from the dredges of poverty and bestowing your gifts upon us. We are forever indebted to you."

"Got that right. You can start by grabbing Val. Dinner is ready."

They ate on cheap plastic dinnerware and Styrofoam. It was obvious that the cutlery and plates were meant to be disposable and had been used and washed numerous times but it didn't bother Daryl. The food, though canned and haphazardly prepared was the best meal that Daryl had, had for as long as he could remember. He couldn't remember the last time a woman had made him dinner. The women he generally hung around with weren't usually the domestic type.

He was quiet through most of dinner, observing the family dynamic before him. It was unlike anything he had ever experienced. Despite the tension from before, it was obvious how in sync and closely bonded the siblings were. They teased and tormented one another but behind their eyes, there was no sign of malice or resentment. A number of times Daryl caught Kristen glancing over at him, as though checking to make sure that he was okay.

The brothers still seemed slightly wary of him but had warmed up as the meal, and the beers, went on. Sean was even asking him about his crossbow at one point. The boy had never seen a weapon like that before and was curious about the mechanics of it.

Liam was mostly quiet, but not unkind. Val was the McCoy that had really warmed up to him though. As the night wore on, Daryl found the little girl sitting closer and closer to him, until she was nearly in his lap. As Kristen gathered up the plates to clean and the brothers began to disassemble the stove, Kristen pointedly looked from him to the little girl. Silently asking him to keep an eye on her as the older McCoys packed up for the night. Daryl nodded awkwardly and hoped the little girl would just sit quietly. Again, he didn't think he was very good with kids.

"Are you Krissy's new boy?" The girl asked innocently.

"Sorry, wha?"

"The last time Krissy let us meet one of her boy friends he turned out to be her _boyfriend._" The girl giggled a bit shyly. "They would have naked sleepovers."

Daryl cleared his throat gruffly.

"Are _you_ going to have naked sleepovers?"

Daryl grimaced uncomfortably. Kids…

He had to admit though, the thought of having 'naked sleepovers' with his hostess had maybe crossed his mind once or twice in the course of the day. Even before she had come by to return the oil can and apologize. There had been a fire in her eyes when she punched him that Daryl couldn't get out of his mind. He could only imagine that she'd get a similar fire in her eyes during other physical activities… Hell, he was a man after all.

As though she knew that she was passing inappropriately through his thoughts, Kristen suddenly appeared. "Hey Val, Liam's gonna read to you for a bit. Try and get settled in the car before the sun goes down okay? I want you locked safe and sound inside when it gets dark."

The little girl gave Daryl one last smile, "See you later Daryl!" He awkwardly lifted a hand to wave. She seemed like a sweet kid but little girls were not Daryl Dixon's expertise.

Kristen affectionately ruffled the girl's hair as she hurried by. Stifling a yawn, she turned back to Daryl. For the first time he noticed how tired she looked. The dark circles under her eyes made her look weary and worn. She rubbed a tired hand over her face, as though trying to rid herself of it.

She settled into the now vacated seat beside Daryl and without so much as asking, took the beer from his hand, taking a long swig from it. Smiling mischievously, she handed it back to him. "Thanks. I needed that. Grateful now that it's just you and Merle?"

Daryl knew that the question was meant to be playfully self-effacing but after spending a few hours around such a happy family unit, the thought of going home to a high and strung out Merle didn't seem very appealing. The present company was also a good deal more attractive.

"There is a bit of chili left if you want to bring it home to him." Daryl reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes and a box of matches. He placed one to his lips and lit it taking a long drag. Like with the beer, Kristen reached right over and took the cigarette from him, placing it to her own lips. She hadn't even looked to him for permission, just continued to absentmindedly watch the tree line. The gesture was so strangely and naturally intimate that it threw him off guard.

He fumbled with the back of smokes in his pocket. "You want one? I didn't know you smoked."

"Nah, I'm good with sharing yours. I don't smoke. Only other people's cigarettes." She grinned at him. Usually Daryl was fiercely protective of his cigarettes but he found himself feeling inclined to share. His eyes lingered on the way her lips pressed against the filter of the cigarette. The way that she would close her eyes as she softly inhaled. Like everything around her would cease to exist for an instant. But the world would suddenly come back into focus with each exhale of smoke.

The small moment was broken by her sudden questioning. "What do you think you guys are gonna do? Everyone can't possibly stay on this road forever?"

"Eh, me and Merle will probably travel around a bit. We're pretty good with living off the land. You take out any of those things yet? Those biters?"

She grimaced at the thought. "Sean and Liam did a few. Most we've ever seen at one time was two or three though. It's been easy to stick away from them when driving. I don't know what everyone is going to do when the gas inevitably runs out."

"Where are y'all headed to anyways?"

"We were originally headed to Florida. Liam and Sean's dad lives down there on a naval base." She hesitated, troubled. "I've heard some talk though from the others here, heard a bit of radio feed from a few cars over. They're saying the military bases are in shambles, overrun and corrupt. We tried phoning a few days ago and all we got was an automated message."

"Well if ya need some company, ya'll could tag along with Merle and me." The offer was out of his lips before he even realized he had made it. He could just imagine the look on Merle's face when he showed up with these tag-alongs. Not that they didn't seem capable of surviving or pulling their weight (besides Val, anyways); just that Dixons didn't tend to work well with others.

Daryl wasn't sure if his thoughts were clear across his face or if she could simply read his mind. "Yeah, because your brother would really love all of us coming along. I know that I don't know you very well, but I can't really see him warming up to Val."

She reached again for his beer, downing it and letting out a deep sigh. The stress and fatigue radiating from her body was almost tangible. Daryl felt an innate compulsion to reach over and touch her. Try and relieve some physical tension. The muscles in his forearms twitched but he held them still. Again, he was faced with the feeling that it was time for him to leave yet he didn't want to. He lit another cigarette in an attempt to prolong the moment.

Kristen's gaze remained on the old station wagon. Liam and Val were laying head to foot in the backseat, trying to get comfortable. Sean was in the driver's seat, dis- and reassembling the firearm. "I just don't know what to do. I mean, I'm used to taking care of the kids, but this is different. Sean isn't even a kid anymore and soon Liam too. And Val? How much longer can she possibly stay a kid the way things are? At least before there was always welfare to fall back on. Now what?" She looked at Daryl so expectantly that he almost felt guilty for not having the answers.

Their eyes locked, gazes lingering for what felt like solid minutes. Kristen was the one to break the eye contact, color rising to her cheeks. Daryl didn't know if it was from the quiet intimacy of the moment or from her own confessions of fear and possible weakness. Vulnerability had swam in her eyes for a few brief moments before being replaced by the stern, determined façade.

Daryl continued to watch her as he chewed the side of his thumb. There had to be something that he could say? It was possible that this was the last time that he'd ever be sat here with her. Hell, it could be the last time that he'd ever be sat with any woman.

He opened his mouth to speak when any words of his were interrupted by the echoing sound of gunfire. Quickly followed by the sound of human screams and inhuman groans.

The two of them quickly jumped to their feet. Even by the dimming moonlight, it wasn't difficult to make out the threat at hand. Weaving through the graveyard of automobiles was an approaching hoard of people that were anything but human.


	4. Chapter 4

**MIGHTIEST OF GUNS**

**CHAPTER FOUR**

At the sight of the biters, time seemed to come to a standstill for Kristen. That, or the adrenaline and fear pumping through her bloodstream was causing her senses to act out in overdrive. Even in the growing darkness, she could make out minute details on the approaching hoard. The filthy clothing, the mangled limbs, the shuffling gait of their movements. Driven forward by nothing but hunger and need. She would describe it as primal, if the quality wasn't only limited to the living. With the breeze blowing in their direction, she could catch a faint whiff of their bodies rotting from the inside out.

Instinctively, she turned back to make a dash for the station wagon. The fear she was experiencing now was nothing like before. Every cell in her body felt electrified. She was choking on her lungs trying to get a breath. All her thoughts turned to Sean, Liam, and Val.

As though knowing her plan of movement before she even made it, two strong arms wrapped around her torso, bringing her to a halt. A scream was building in her throat when Daryl firmly pressed a hand over her mouth, silencing her. She glared at him, a mixture of confusion and rage. He looked at her pointedly, making sure that she'd keep quiet after he removed his hand. The biters were still a good five yards away, but getting closer with every second. He needed to make sure that she wasn't going to draw any added attention to them.

His words came out in a low hiss, gentle but severe. "Look girl, if you go runnin' over to that car now, don't you think that's gonna draw about a dozen of those things with you? No offense, but what good protectin' them was ya gonna be anyways? They're going to be fine." He half thought that she was going to try and break his nose again.

She said nothing though. Still inside his arms, she swayed slightly as though she were on the verge of passing out. Her eyes continually darting back and forth between the station wagon and the approaching walkers. He wasn't sure if she was even hearing anything he said. All he knew was that the hoard was getting closer and they couldn't just stand there waiting to get eaten.

He took one last glance at the station wagon. He couldn't see any of the McCoys through the windows. Sean would have had the sense to tell them to all get down. Probably hidden under those blankets they had packed. As long as they were still and quiet, the biters would just pass by. Him and Kristen though? They needed to get out of the open and fast.

He grabbed her hand and ran, half dragging her behind him. With every step she took away from the station wagon she felt as though she were betraying her family. Felt as though she was creating a distance that none of them would ever be able to surmount. She had been prepared to run right into that approaching mob and die trying to protect her family. And most likely die uselessly. If Daryl hadn't been here is that what she would be doing right now?

They came upon a large, yellowing RV. One that still offered a good vantage point of the station wagon. Daryl grabbed the handle and yanked but it didn't budge. He had assumed the old piece of shit had to be abandoned. He swore and started to run behind it, still clutching Kristen's hand. A part of him was afraid that if he let go, she'd run right to her family anyways.

A moment later they heard the soft click of the door unlocking. It cracked open a few inches and a face appeared. "If you're coming, quick get in. Before those things see you." Daryl grabbed the handle and silently swung the door open. Pushing Kristen inside ahead of him, he followed her up the steps.

They were greeted by an old man in a bucket hat and two young blonde women. The five of them stood in silence, their expressions grim. Kristen ran to the window, her eyes trained on her siblings. Daryl had expected her to shake or sob but she was as still as stone. He joined her at the window.

Things seemed to be going alright. He had been right in assuming that it was just a migration, not a hunting trip. These walkers had passed hundreds and hundreds of abandoned cars at this point. As long as the people here weren't stupid or drew attention to themselves, they'd be okay.

There were, of course, some carnage though. Daryl could hear the sound of screaming casualties. He made a mental note to be alert for any people that might be carrying the infection after tonight. He thought of Merle, probably passed out in his tent. He expected to be washed over with a wave of concern, He wasn't.

A biter brushed against the side of the RV, clearly a bit intrigued by the size and shape. The two blondes stifled a whimper as the creature banged against the aluminum siding. Kristen barely seemed to notice. Her fear clearly preoccupied.

The biter lingered at the steps leading to the door. Reached up and tried the handle. Once, twice, three times. The old man had at least had the sense to lock it behind him. Daryl reached to his belt, pulled a hunting knife from its sheath. He looked around for anything else that was sturdy enough to swing. There was a hammer on the floor under the RV's dining area. He motioned to Kristen and silently she nodded, reaching for it. He took it from her, handing her the hunting knife. He wanted her to have something to defend herself with but knew that he could deal greater damage with the mallet.

His grip around the handle tightened as the biter continued to investigate the door. He half considered pulling the door open himself and just ending it. Taking out the biter would be nothing compared to the torture of suspense. But he had to think of the other people in the RV, these strangers, Kristen. He had to think of the dozens of other walkers out there that would jump at the chance to have a meal.

Just as the suspense was starting to drive him mad, the biter lost interest and wandered away. A silent, collective sigh was released throughout the RV. The two blondes wrapped their arms around one another.

The brief respite from worry was broken by a sudden sob. Wordlessly at the window, Kristen gestured to the station wagon. A small group of biters, four or five, had gathered around the car. Pulling away at the exterior wooden panels, trying to claw their way inside. Daryl could only imagine that it was the sobs of the little girl that drew their attention to the inside of the vehicle.

Kristen already had the door open and was running outside when he caught her. Forcefully he pulled her back inside, side stepping her to get through the narrow doorway. "Stay here. Lock the door behind me."

Luckily, the majority of the hoard had passed by. If he could just take out these half a dozen, then everything should be okay…

A shot rang out.

From the front seat, Sean made the misguided decision to fire the gun through the windshield at a biter that had crawled on top of the hood. The creature was dead, but the inside of the car was now littered with broken glass. The inside of the car was exposed. Daryl broke into a sprint. With the glass broken, Val's screams were easy to hear now.

Sean had removed himself from the front seat and was lifting the gun to fire at two more biters who were trying to climb inside the broken windshield. Daryl swung the mallet, smashing in the skull of the nearest walker. He tried to catch Sean's eye. Tried to silently tell him not to fire the gun. That the reverb of the shot would only attract more of them. But he was too late. The younger man fired three rounds into the faces of the biters on the hood.

Sure enough, a shift in the movement of the traveling hoard could be felt. About a dozen walkers stopped in their tracks and slowly moved towards the sound of the gunshot. The car would soon be overrun. He yelled for Liam to unlock the door. Yanking it open, he reached in and grabbed Val. Holding her in his arms and looking her directly in the eyes he spoke rapidly. "Okay sweetheart, some more of those bad guys are coming. I need you to do something real brave for me okay? Can you do that?" The little girl nodded seriously, her eyes welling with tears. "Good girl. Ya see that big yellow van over there. Now, you're sister is in there and she needs you. You need to go run there. As fast as ya can. She's gonna let you in. Okay? When I say go, you go."

The child nodded again as he placed her on the ground. The biters were a few yards away now. A safe enough distance for the girl to run by unharmed, but he wasn't taking any chances. He turned to Liam and Sean, whom were both armed with the baseball bat and gun respectively. "We gotta distract them. " He took their silence as proof enough that they understood the plan. For a second he wondered if he should be trying to save Liam too but the kid was a man now. Nobody was tryin' to save Daryl Dixon's life when he was 16.

He lifted the mallet to his shoulder and took a step towards the approaching biters, looking over his shoulder at Val for only a split second. "Okay sweetheart, now's time." Turning back to the walkers he swung, "'sup, you sons of bitches." The mallet made contact with the first one, resonating with the sound of crunching bone. Biters weren't really that difficult to kill after a bit of practice. It was just if you got surrounded that you were dead.

He turned to see Kristen outside of the RV, clearly understanding what the plan had been. She scooped Val up in her arms and bolted towards the inside of the van. Whatever happened now, at least he had made that happen.

He glanced over at the other two McCoys. Liam and Sean seemed frozen on the sidelines, either from fear or from the shock at witnessing the man try to solely take down a dozen walkers. He continued to swing, smashing in skulls. He was largely desensitized to the carnage of a decaying human body at this point. Him and Merle had been in worse spots than this. He was trying not to think about Merle right now…

Kristen felt like she had been kicked in the ribs as she watched Daryl run over to the under-sieged station wagon. She pulled at the door only to be held back by the older of the two blondes. The woman had tried to soothe her, rub her hair and tell her that it was okay. "Your boyfriend is going to be fine." Kristen had been too distraught to even bother correcting her.

When she saw Daryl pull the little girl from the car and place her alone on the ground, she understood immediately what the plan was. She unlocked the door and stood ready at the handle. She had meant to wait as long as possible before opening the door, less risk attracting any attention to the RV, but she couldn't wait. She ran outside and met Val halfway. Picking the little girl up, it was a wonder that she didn't crush her sister's ribs, she held so tightly.

Inside, the little girl had composed herself enough to sit quietly. McCoys were pretty good with coping, even the smallest ones. Kristen's thoughts quickly turned to her brothers, namely Liam. Before anyone could think to hold her back again, she kissed Val, grabbed the hunting knife and ran outside.

The biters were still distracted enough by Daryl that she was easily able to silently jog over to where her brothers were crouching in a tree cover. She hissed a greeting, "Liam. Get inside. The RV where Val went. Go." He didn't move. "I get it, you're a man now. But if you aren't gonna fight right now, then go take care of Val." The boy hesitated for a moment before dropping the bat at his sister's feet and quietly hurrying inside. His expression was a mix of fear and shame.

Kristen lifted the bat. "What the fuck are you going to do with that?" Sean's eyes held a somewhat hollowed expression. The biter he had shot before was the first one he took out close up. The blood and brain matter was still splattered in his face and hair. He was in some kind of shock.

"What do you think Seany? I'm gonna swing it."

Kristen stepped out from the brush, her movements much more hesitant than her spoken bravado would expect. Her first biter came at her. The titanium of the bat was heavy and solid in her arms. Luckily, she had some experience with swinging it. At a few drunken assholes who tried to rob the bar after closing time. At a boyfriend who started thinking that no didn't really mean no. At the occasional bookie who would still come 'round the house, breaking in the windows looking to collect on her father's gambling debts.

The same possessive, protective instinct she felt on all of those occasions came flooding back to her and she swung. It didn't matter that in all of those occasions she had never actually made contact with a skull.

The sensation wasn't like she had expected. The skull was brittle, caving in easily enough. The brain mushed around the bat. She cringed at the sight and sound but sure enough, the walker collapsed in a heap.

Slowly, she made her way over to Daryl. Wanting to help him, but not wanting to startle him. It was a good thing that she approached him slowly because she thought he was going to drop the mallet when he saw her. They exchanged no greeting besides the silent widening of his eyes meeting the angry determination of hers.

Wordlessly, they swung until their arms and backs ached and half a dozen walkers around them were reduced to nothing more but heaps of former human flesh and brain. It had been an easy fight, even Kristen understood that. The walkers had been slow and staggered. Half a dozen more and they were all most likely be dead.

She dropped the bat, fell to her knees, and doubled over, waiting to vomit. But it wouldn't come. Instead, her body heaved with quiet sobs. It was just too much. She had thought tonight was the end. The end of everything. She didn't possibly see how they could survive more nights of surviving like this. She blinked fiercely, wiped her mouth, and raised herself up to standing. This was just the way things were now. They would simply have to adapt.

Daryl watched as she regained her composure. Despite moments before helping him take out the walkers, she suddenly looked very small to him. She approached him and silently reached for his hand. He was surprised by how soft hers felt. Grabbing them before, he hadn't noticed. Her voice was quiet, a fraction above a whisper.

"I'm sorry that I'm not better at saying thank you. The kids would most likely be dead if it wasn't for you. I'd most likely be too."

He nodded, muttered what had to be the most awkward 'You're welcome.' He was as bad at accepting thanks as she was at offering it.

She smiled dryly. "And just think, a few hours ago I was worried about owing you for a can of fucking gasoline. I know that dinner wasn't good enough to be worth all this."

Daryl laughed, "Maybe worth it for the beers though."

This time her smile reached her eyes. To his surprise, she didn't release his hand from hers as they made their way to the waiting McCoys in that poor family's RV.

_Author's Note: I know this chapter was a jam-packed action/adventure. I promise there will be more cutesy emotional moments and the like soon. Going to follow the season story arc for the most part, obviously quite a few large differences though. Thanks again for all the lovely follows/favs/reviews! xx_


	5. Chapter 5

**MIGHTIEST OF GUNS**

**CHAPTER FIVE**

Her grip on his hand was vice-like. Squeezing his fingers so tightly that Daryl couldn't tell where his pulse ended and hers began. At first the action had surprised him. He thought it was almost meant to be intimate. Then he realized, she was squeezing his hands to keep her own from shaking.

He looked her over. She was swaying slightly as she walked and there was a definite tremble through her shoulders. Lightly tugging at his hand in her grip, he stopped her.

"You doin' okay?"

"Yeah." Her response was like a quick intake of breath. She exhaled. "Just feeling a little jumpy."

"That was your first real fight. Of course you're gonna be a little freaked. Ya did a good job though."

She nodded silently. "Can we hold up a second? I just want to not be freaking out when I see Val again for the first time. I don't want to scare her."

"I think she's gonna be pretty scared no matter how you act."

That would be the understatement of the year.

They were hardly within view of the RV when the door flew open and a hysterical Val came flying down the steps, throwing herself into her sister's arms. Kristen had thought that embracing her little sister would calm her down. Serve as tangible proof that they had survived the attack, all of them. But her sister felt so small and fragile. The helplessness of childhood. Kristen felt a lump growing in her throat. She strained to swallow.

"Valley, it's okay. Everyone's okay. Your brothers looked after you?"

As though on cue, Sean and Liam exited the RV. Liam looked deeply shaken. His skin was alabaster in the moonlight. Any sign of his sunburn from earlier that day had faded as the blood had drained from his face. He stood poised and still like a frightened rabbit.

Sean was a contrast. Where the blood had drained from Liam's cheeks, it had run to Sean's. He shared in Kristen's propensity for blushing. Right now though, his cheeks were burning in shame. He had failed to live up to his own high expectations. He had frozen and fled rather than fight to protect his family. Even worse, he had left his sister to defend them herself. A dark and slightly misogynistic part of him was the most disappointed at that. He had left his job to a woman. He was afraid that maybe she had even done a better job than he would have.

The insecurities and anger at his sister evaporated instantly though as Kristen pulled her two brothers into a hug. "Thank you for looking after Val for me." She spoke as though they had done exactly as she would have wanted them to and not as though they had abandoned her alone with the biters. Well, not alone exactly…

Sean's gaze traveled back to the Dixon man. In the excitement and chaos of the moment, he had almost forgotten the man's presence. Another sort of shame crept up his spine. Merely hours ago, he had acted so combative towards this man. It had been so important to him to prove himself the alpha male. To prove that he was a big, tough guy. But then when it mattered, he failed. Deep resentment began to build up in the pit of Sean's stomach. He almost felt as though Daryl had saved them and helped his sister in a masculine attempt to one-up him. Gratitude mingled with irritation bubbled within him. He shot Daryl a glare that was difficult to read, roughly shrugging off his sister's hand that had reassuringly rested on his shoulder. He knew that he was being a child but he couldn't control it.

"I'm gonna go check the station wagon. See if it's salvageable." Gruffly and abruptly, he stalked off towards the shattered glass of the car.

Kristen's jaw dropped. She had expected for her brothers to still be in a bit of shock, perhaps to even feel sheepish for not being more aggressive in the face of danger. But she hadn't expected for Sean's aggression to make an appearance now. Her maternal instincts told her to go after her brother. She was about to follow when she felt Daryl's hand stop her.

"Nah, let the kid be."

She looked at him curiously. It was times like this where she realized that she never really had that good of an idea of the way that men's minds worked. She could feed them and nurse their wounds. Take them to school and give them advice the best she could. But she knew that she could never fulfill the role of father for her siblings. She was struggling as it was to play the mom role. And with the way that things were now, her brothers especially really could have used a father.

She turned and looked at Liam. She half expected him to look indignant, to storm after his brother in a similar show of irrational annoyance. The brothers were sometimes like night and day. Liam was simply quiet and still. His shifted his gaze from her to their surroundings as though any second he was afraid that they would find themselves in conflict again. He suddenly seemed much younger than his sixteen years.

Glancing at Daryl, he made brief eye contact – pulled his mouth into a tight line. A strained sort of smile. Daryl nodded silently. And like that, gratitude was given. The two men seemed to speak the same language of non-conversational conversation.

The RV door slammed and the older gentleman in the white hat approached them. Val smiled at the sight of him.

"Krissy, it's Mr. Dale!" Leave it to her to make friends with anyone, Kristen thought affectionately. The brief affection was followed by a much more unsettling thought. She was going to have to carefully monitor the people her little sister became friends with these days. This wasn't their old neighborhood where everyone knew everyone. Everyone knew that if anyone tried anything with one of her kids, she or Sean would show up at their door with a two by four.

In an instant, she shook off the thought. This man had helped them when they were in danger. He had sheltered Val while she took care of what needed to be done. Even if she couldn't trust him, she could still be grateful to him for that.

"I owe you a big thanks" she said as she reached to shake his hand. "You all took us in and protected my siblings. I really owe you for that." Owe. The word itself had the taste of bitter metallic in her mouth. These days life seemed to be a neverending cycle of accepting and repaying favors from strangers. It seemed to be the only way that anybody could get by. This type of mutual codependence with nonfamily members made her anxiety heighten.

"Oh, it was no trouble. Just did what anybody would do. Or at least what anybody _should_ do. Those things, have they completely passed by now? Is there a chance they could double back in the night?"

"Nah, a herd like that ain't gonna turn back unless they gotta good reason to. As long as there ain't any explosions or anything here to draw their attention, they're gone. We took care of ones that were a direct threat." Daryl spoke up gruffly. It seemed he was most comfortable lending his voice and his opinion in situations have to do with logistics. No risk in stating facts.

Kristen wasn't quite sure why he was still even there. Not to say that she wasn't glad that he was. She just thought he'd want to go check on his brother…

"Merle!" She suddenly burst out, frantically turning to Daryl. "Your brother!"

Daryl's eyebrow quirked slightly. "Yeah. Merle is my brother."

"I'm so sorry! We've been keeping you here when you probably want to be checking on your brother. I mean, I'm sure he's fine but you must be so worried about him."

Daryl's face darkened. A part of him was amused that her concern for Merle seemed to outweigh his. She just doesn't know him yet, he thought sardonically. Her concern made a different part of him feel deeply sad, however. Sad that he wasn't all that concerned about Merle at all. Sad that Merle had never given him a reason to feel that concerned. Anyways, it was far more likely that Merle had died of an overdose than it was that he'd be killed by walkers. And in either case, there was little that he could do at this point. He didn't express that to his present company however.

"Merle's a tough guy. He's fine." He could never depend on Merle for much but he could always depend on Merle to get out of a spot okay. Selfish, self-sufficient, surviving Merle.

Kristen continued to watch him, her brow furrowing. He thought for a second that she was going to speak up, to insist that maybe they _all_ trek over to make sure Merle was okay. But instead she nodded silently, accepting his response.

Dale spoke up again. "If you don't all mind, I think it's probably best to get back inside the RV. If more of those things show up again, I'd rather us be inside. You're all welcome to stay the night of course. We can work things out in the morning."

Kristed shook with a jolt. As the adrenaline of the night's violence wore off and the reality of their situation sunk in, she suddenly realized that they were now without the shelter of their car. Sure, they could still drive it as far she knew, but without the protection of the windows, what use was it? She suddenly felt panicked. Sure, they could just steal one of the abandoned cars. Sean was apt enough to hotwire it, but the inconvenience of that felt daunting. She wanted the RoadMaster. It was their last bit of home.

Daryl watched her, read her expressions. He could almost see the cogs of her mind turning frantically. He felt an urge to reassure her.

"Why don't you take Val inside and try get her comfortable. I'll go check on Sean and the car. I'm sure we'll be able to do something about it in the morning."

She nodded easily, nearly jumping on the idea. "Yes, okay. That sounds good." At this point, she felt so tired of having to be in charge, of having to make the decisions for her small family. She was eager to follow his advice.

Dale, Liam, and Val headed towards the RV, climbing the stairs inside. Kristen halted for a second and turned back to Daryl.

"Daryl, You will hurry back, won't you?" The concern in her eyes was almost disarming in its childlike innocence. He had to gruffly clear his throat and simply nodded.

Making his way through the dark towards the station wagon, Daryl chastised himself. _What the fuck are you doing Dixon? The very last thing you need is to get yourself wrapped up in this. A pretty girl feeds you and suddenly you're risking your neck? It ain't worth it. You mean nothing to these people. She said it herself, she invited you to dinner because she didn't want her brother making enemies. It didn't matter who you were, she wouldn't give a shit if you came back to that RV. Any why should she?_

But the way that she had looked at him as she turned back from the RV felt burned into his brain. It's possible that there was nothing spectacular or significant about it. It had just been so long since somebody had looked at Daryl that way. _She was probably just worried about her brother coming back._ But she hadn't mentioned Sean. She had only said his name. He shook his head, trying to rid himself of the image of her eyes.

He came upon the station wagon to find Sean sitting in the front seat. Broken glass, blood, and cranial tissue littered the dashboard. His hands gripped the steering wheel and he stared straight ahead. Daryl approached slowly, the way he would a skittish animal.

"Ya should come back to the RV. Your sister is gonna be worried 'bout you."

The boy continued to stare straight ahead but his body stiffened, his jaw twitched as he clenched his teeth. "Yeah? She'll be extra worried now that she sees I can't handle myself in a fucking fight even. Thank god you were here." The slightest bit of sincerity shone through in his sarcasm.

"Look, it was your first time with a walker. First time I saw one, I just about shit myself. It'll get easier. You'll be fine."

Sean turned to him. "Well what does it say about me that my fucking sister was braver than me about it?"

"And what's wrong with that? You ain't ever seen one of them mama grizzly bears. I swear, I knew a guy once who got too close to a couple of cubs when he was drunk. That bitch came outta nowhere and just about mauled his face off. That's how your sister was with you. Bravery has nothin' to do with it. Ya just do what has to be done."

To Daryl's great shock, Sean seemed to accept this as truth. Slowly, he rose from the car, careful to not catch himself on any of the shards. Climbing out the door, he followed Daryl back towards the RV. Neither man said anything, but a bit of the tension between them seemed to have lifted.

The RV was incredibly crowded with people at this point. The two blondes seemed to have disappeared into a back sleeping area. Dale, in an attempt to be a gracious host, was uncomfortably dozing in the driver's seat. Val was laid out on the cushioned bench that served as a kitchen seating, Liam sprawled out under the table. Relief washed over Kristen's face as they entered the RV. She had obviously been waiting up for them. Daryl had to wonder just how many nights of her life were spent waiting up for one of her brothers to come home.

Sean pulled her into a silent embrace. They seemed to mutually understand that words weren't necessary, at least not now. The only person upset about Sean's actions was Sean. Kristen had never expected her brothers to act like warriors. They shouldn't have to. But after her experiences tonight, she was afraid that very soon they would. Unknown to her, Daryl was feeling the same way. He had been as encouraging and supportive in his talk with Sean as he could, but in reality – Sean needed to man up. Kristen couldn't defend the family on her own every time. Hell, if he hadn't been there tonight, as much potential as she had shown, she would have easily died.

But now wasn't the time for that discussion. Sean grabbed a throw blanket from a pile that Dale had gotten out for them and climbed under the small table to sleep beside his brother.

Kristen had removed her sweater, so that she was in a thin tank top and her leggings, in an attempt to use the knit as a pillow. Daryl couldn't help but take in her figure and cleared his throat as quietly as he could. The silence of the RV felt stifling, paired with the discomfort of being in a stranger's personal space. He suddenly felt a desire to flee. Awkwardly, he chewed the side of his thumb and glanced over at the door.

His thoughts were shattered by a whisper. "Daryl, here." Kristen held out a fleece quilt and a small towel, he assumed meant to be used as a pillow. "We can go first thing in the morning to check on your brother."

He considered her offerings for the second time today. "I was thinking I might just head back over now. I'm sure Merle's fine but I can get outta your hair."

Her eyes widened in fear for a split second but she regained composure. "Oh, but are you sure? There could still be more of them out there. And it's dangerous with it being so dark. And you said it yourself that Merle is fine. You might as well try and relax. I have a blanket for you and everything."

Daryl's mouth twitched at a smile. If she had hinted at concern for him earlier, it was obvious now. "Relax girl. Give me the damn blanket."

She let out a deep sigh and smiled. "Okay good. Go to sleep." He lowered himself to the ground and curled the towel up under his neck. It was actually a good deal more comfortable than sleeping in his pickup. He continued to watch Kristen as she moved about the cab. She walked over to her siblings. Bending down to check on her brother's under the table. Leaning over to adjust Val's blanket. Finally deciding that all was as okay as it was going to be, she stretched out on the floor about a foot away from Daryl. If he reached out he could touch her.

Kristen felt herself drifting to sleep almost instantly. She had expected the night to drag on, for her fears to take hold of her and deny her any rest. But she felt overcome by a funny kind of calm. She could only attribute it to the relative shelter of the RV around them and Daryl's presence a few inches away.

She had been so desperate for him to stay. She felt as though if he left tonight that she would never see him again. And she had so selfishly grown accustomed to his presence throughout the day. All day she had felt as though he were looking out for her. As though nothing bad would happen as long as he were around. He had stepped up during the attack, defended them. He was still here now. She felt calmer, more capable, and safer with him around. She knew morning would have to come soon but for tonight she knew she would sleep.

She had fallen fast asleep in a matter of minutes. Daryl watched for a few moments. Not lecherously, but curiously. It was interesting to see someone who spent their life on point and in charge, thoroughly relaxed in the throes of sleep. He imagined what she'd be like in the early morning. What it would be like to wake up next to her as she was still dozing. Soft and supple and smiling lazily. The image stirred something inside of him and he knew it was best to shake it off. He readjusted the towel under his head and willed himself to sleep. It would soon be morning and he'd have to figure out a way to keep them all together. Regardless of what Merle had to say about it.

_Author's Note: So sorry for the delay in updates! It's been midterm exam season, eek! But spring break is coming up really soon so you can expect steady updates for a bit. Thanks for all the reviews/follows/favs. You're all lovely. xx_


	6. Chapter 6

**MIGHTIEST OF GUNS**

**CHAPTER SIX**

The next morning, Kristen felt as though her limbs were on fire. She had never been overly athletic and the strain of swinging the heavy bat for so long had taken its toll. Her limbs felt stretched to the point of tearing, her arms like rubber bands. She made a mental note to start trying to do press-ups each day. The way things were looking, she was going to need to start building up her physical strength, and soon.

Despite the early hour, she was surprised to see that the bodies in the RV still slept soundly. She could sympathize with their mental and physical exhaustion. But she was used to only getting around five or six hours a night. On a good weeknight, she'd get home from the bar around 3am. She'd climb out of her clothing and fall into bed. Her alarm would ring promptly at 8am to help Val get off to school.

Then she'd tidy the house, maybe have coffee with a neighbor. Sort the kid's laundry, haggle over the phone with the debt collectors, flirt with the man at the cable company to lower their rate. Get some groceries, put a stew in the slow cooker, catch a quick cat nap, wake up just in time to get Val from the bus stop. Listen to her day, help her with her homework – explain to her that Christopher Columbus was kind of an asshole. See Liam in. Inquire casually who his black eye was from. Swallow back a lecture. Scrounge up money for his driving lessons. Serve dinner. Phone Sean to see where the hell he was. Settle Val in front of the television for some Disney. Have a shower, put on something more attractive, throw on lipstick and head to work, just as Sean was coming home with a bloodied knuckle and a new car stereo.

She'd pay anything right now for the monotony of those days.

The trailer was stiflingly hot, the result of the blazing Georgia sun and too many bodies crammed into a tight metal space. Leaving her sweater on the floor, she slowly rose and gingerly stepped towards the door. She was careful to step over Daryl's body without disturbing him. It was odd to see him there. Not odd in itself, but odd that it didn't actually seem all that odd.

His presence seemed rather natural, despite it not even being a full 24 hours since they'd first laid eyes on the man. She felt as though the events of the night before had bonded them all. Like they had all been witnesses or accomplices to the same horrible crime. Even the white haired man and the two blondes, despite not even having a conversation with them, she felt a strange sort of kinship. The sensation was entirely new.

She crept out of the RV, careful not to slam the door behind her. Her plan was to head over to the station wagon and try and deal with it. The thought had already occurred to her that they had left their belongings, everything they owned, unprotected over night. Sure, the trunk was still locked but the latch in the front seat to pop it open was now easily visible. It wasn't as though they had anything truly valuable, but the thought of losing it all still made her uneasy. This was everything they had. Everything that was left besides each other.

When she approached the car, she swallowed any repulsion and focused on the task at hand. The dashboard and front seat were still littered with brain matter and shattered bone. It seemed though, that all of their belongings had been left untouched by any possible passing salvagers. She immediately thought to commandeer an abandoned vehicle to use as their new storage and transport. To use as their new home, really.

Kristen had always been incredibly impatient when it came to a task needing to be done. She wasn't one for sitting around and planning. She was always just eager to get started on the first step, figure it out as she went. In school, she'd always start her assignments before the teacher even finished directions. She'd work ahead in the syllabus to the point where she'd be done with all her papers a month or two in advance. Her grades had always been excellent though she knew that she wouldn't go to college. One teacher had hounded and hounded her to take the SAT's anyways. She got her results the weekend after she had to kick Maura out. She'd earned an 1900, more than good enough to get into a prestigious school. That day she tossed the letter out and cried as she soothed a fussing Val.

Kristen shook off the thoughts. That was nearly a decade ago now. Not that it mattered anyways. What good would a shiny degree do her today?

She wandered among the same abandoned cars from before. Less than a day ago, the corpses rotting in the front seats had horrified her. She already seemed more desensitized to them today. She came upon a mid-sized SUV that was similar to a neighbor's that she had driven nearly a hundred times. This particular neighbor had a habit of drunkenly leaving his car at the bar and stumbling home on foot. Kristen always obliged to return it in the morning for an added tip.

Aside from the two corpses, baking in the Georgia sun, this vehicle seemed like a fine choice. She grabbed the handle of the passenger side and yanked. The door stuck momentarily but eased open – unlocked, luckily. The stench of the bodies was overwhelming. She had been wise to avoid opening the vehicle the day before. She tried to avoid looking at the corpse as she attempted to lift it. It felt leathery and surprisingly solid. She was grateful for the layers of fabric that still adorned it. Flies buzzed around her face as she struggled to wedge its heavy mass from the seat. The term 'dead weight' came to mind. As she lugged it from the car, she silently apologized. _I'm sorry this happened to you._

Moving around to the driver's side, this time the body was much heavier. Whereas the passenger had obviously been a woman, this one was all man – and a large man at that. She grunted and clenched her jaw as she tried to lift him, but he wouldn't budge. She took a deep breath and swore as her own curses were interrupted by those of someone else.

"Wha' the fuck are you doin'?" The tone and voice was familiar. She turned to see Daryl approaching, his brow furrowed.

"What does it look like? I'm trying to get us a new car. I just can't lift this. Give me a hand?" She stepped to the side to make room for him to help her but Daryl just stood a ways away, watching her.

"So you're all just gonna take this car?"

She seemed visibly upset at the question. Her voice was tinged with guilt. "Look, I know it looks horrible – dragging these poor people from their resting place. But we don't have a choice. What are the kids and I going to do?"

"Nah, I didn't mean it like that. Taking a car would be a good idea. But do you know what ya gonna do when you have a car? Where ya'll gonna go?"

She sighed and steeled herself. "I'm fixing things one question at a time. If we have a car, then we can protect our belongings and ourselves better than if we're just stuck here."

"Do you know if this thing even drives?"

She could feel her face reddening with impatience. Why couldn't he just help her move the damn body? She wasn't upset or annoyed with Daryl. She was just annoyed that she couldn't complete the task at hand without assistance.

"Well, we'll know once we get this poor guy out of the front seat."

Daryl smirked a bit at her tone. She was certainly in a mood to get wound up today. He looked her up and down and simply said, "Move." Gratefully, she stepped aside as he reached into the car and with a bit of a strained grunt moved the corpse from the front seat, easily enough.

She peered up at him almost shyly. "Do you think you could carry him over to the other body? Lay them next to each other."

He looked at her questioningly.

"Well, it looks like they were married. Probably really loved each other if they were together till the end. They should at least get to lay beside one another. Especially if I'm stealing their car."

She looked so childlike as she spoke that it tugged at his heartstrings. He dragged the man's body over to the woman's and laid them side by side. Kristen followed closely behind and stood over the two corpses for a moment. She seemed to be looking at the mangled bits of flesh and bone and seeing something different though, for her expression turned wistful.

"What are ya thinkin'?" He was surprised by his boldness for asking, but he was genuinely curious.

"Just some sappy shit." He smirked at her response. Merle probably would have approved. She continued, "Just selfish stuff really. Like, it must be easier to go through this all with a teammate. I love the kids, but most of the time I feel like I can't even let them know what I'm thinking or it'll scare them even more. It's not like I can depend on them. It would be easier with Sean if he weren't so volatile about everything. Half the time now I'm just afraid of saying anything that will set him off. Afraid that he'll leave us. That's probably why I've been rambling so much to you since yesterday. I've just been keeping all my stresses in for so long that they're spilling out to the first person that seems vaguely interested in hearing them."

She looked at him meaningfully. "Thanks."

He nodded silently, unsure of how to respond. Reaching down to the side of the road, he grabbed a handful of dandelions struggling for growth through the cracks in the pavement. He released the bushel of golden weeds over the two bodies.

Luckily, the keys had still been in the ignition and the engine still worked. Daryl had to help her adjust the seat so that she could comfortably reach the pedals, but the car drove easily enough. They drove over to the station wagon and began to transfer the McCoy's belongings into the new vehicle. Daryl worked to siphon gas into the SUV.

"Only downside is this thing's gonna go through oil like a bitch."

Kristen smiled at him for the first time all morning. "Guess you'll have to stick around then so I can just continually steal yours, huh?"

He grinned to himself, his heart doing a little flip. If either of them thought it was strange that Daryl was still hanging around, they didn't mention it. It certainly was a bit strange though. With each passing second he knew that Merle was going to be more annoyed that he had vanished for so long. Daryl just hoped that he was still passed out. Daryl just didn't feel like leaving yet. He enjoyed her company. Hell, he even enjoyed being around the others. The past day had given him a sense of purpose that he hadn't really experienced in a long time. And she seemed to want him to stay. So for now, he stayed.

Somebody was of course going to question his presence though.

"What the fuck is he still doing here?" Sean came over from the RV, his light eyes squinting in the bright morning sun. Daryl inwardly sighed. Any progress he had made last night making the young man not resent him seemed to have been lost. He bit the inside of his mouth to control his temper. He wasn't used to being spoken to, or about like that, from anybody but Merle or his old man. Outside of normal family abuse, Dixons didn't let people disrespect them. But out of a sense of something for Kristen, he controlled the urge to smack Sean upside the head.

Kristen just seemed weary. As though she had been dealing with this aspect of her brother's personality for too long. "Good morning, Sean. Are Li and Val okay?"

Sean's tone lightened every so lightly but he sneered in Daryl's direction. "Yeah, the women in the RV are feeding them some oatmeal or something. There is some more if you're hungry."

As though on cue, Kristen felt her stomach growl hollowly. The chili seemed like years ago at this point. But she didn't have the time to eat just yet. And she wasn't exactly comfortable with leaving the two men alone presently.

"Thanks. Daryl helped me secure a new car. It seems like it runs fine. It'll give us a bit more room for comfort too."

Sean scoffed at his sister. "Good fucking choice, Kris. This thing is only to need gas refills like every other hour. How the fuck are we supposed to get around in that tank?"

Daryl could feel his blood boiling. "Well if ya hadn't be stupid enough to shoot out the windshield, then we wouldn't be needin to get you a new car, would we?"

The corners of Kristen's mouth twitched up in the tiniest of smiles. She wasn't used to people sticking up for her to Sean. He wasn't a bad man, just had a bit of a mean streak. Usually she'd just suck it up and ignore it, let the moment pass for the sake of the others. The smile faded quickly as Sean stalked off.

"Sean, wait!" She called after him but he either couldn't hear or chose to ignore her.

Daryl stepped closer. "Look. Ya can't be walkin' on eggshells just because of the kid. When I was his age, I was an asshole too. Thought I knew everything. He's not gonna leave you though. I can promise you that." He reached into the trunk of the station wagon and lifted the Coleman stove.

"How do you know he won't?"

Daryl gave a kind of scoff and laughed as he loaded the SUV. "Fuck, look at me. I can't even seem to leave y'all right now. How is your own brother gonna manage that?"

His back was to Kristen, otherwise he would have seen how her cheeks flushed as she smiled at the sight of him. The smile was matched by a gnawing insecurity in the back of her mind. The same voice that she heard when her mother got serious about Sean and Liam's father. The same voice she heard when she started feeling too chummy with a guy. _Don't get attached. Don't get dependent. You can't afford to._

They heard a door slam and the inhabitants of the RV made their way over. Val scurried over to Kristen and Daryl, her eyes going wide at the new car. "Is that for us?" Kids were strangely resistant. The novelty of a new car and all the horrors of the previous twelve hours just melted away for Val.

Kristen held out a hand to Dale. "I owe you a huge debt of gratitude. You saved our lives last night, you gave us shelter. I don't know what we would have done without all of you."

The man smiled humbly. "It was nothing. Honestly, happy to help. We'll have proper introductions during the day. Why don't you two come and eat something. Try and get cleaned up. We have a bit of water in the tank."

Kristen considered her appearance for the first time all day. She looked down in horror to see that her cream colored tank top was covered with the blood and grime of the corpses they had moved. Darkened blood and body matter from the biters was dried onto her skin. She suddenly felt savage and self-conscious. She was sure that the two blondes were passing serious judgment.

However, the older of the two blonde women stepped forward. Her eyes were kind. "I'm Andrea. This is my sister Amy. Come on, I'll show you to the little bathroom. We even have a bit of shampoo left I'm willing to part with for you."

The familiar dread of charity rose up inside her, but the prospect of shampoo was too desirous to pass up. Especially if there was a bit for Val. As Kristen and Val headed back to the RV, Dale stood with Daryl.

"The little girl was telling us about how you all met just yesterday. That was a great thing you did: risking your life to help that family."

Daryl merely grumbled, rubbing his hand awkwardly over the back of his neck.

Dale shook his head, "Don't shrug it off. The world needs more men like you these days. I've been in talks with a few other survivors around here. There is a quarry, not too far off up in the hills. We're thinking about making camp there. I'd be proud to have you, all of you, come along."

Daryl's stomach flipped at the thought. For a brief second he felt someone along the lines of hope. Not even just to stick around but the hope of having some kind of plan – rather than wandering aimlessly as he and Merle had been, trying to find people to scam. The quarry could be perfect.

Dale continued, "We're going to take today to gather our supplies, discuss plans. We're thinking about moving out tomorrow."

Daryl knew it was time to go check on Merle.

_Author's Note: Thanks for reading! _


	7. Chapter 7

**MIGHTIEST OF GUNS**

**CHAPTER 7**

The water wasn't warm and the pressure was weak, but the shower still felt like some sort of luxury from another world. They had been getting by with hand sanitizer and wet wipes for the past month. Kristen would sprinkle baby powder along their scalp lines in an attempt to keep the grease at bay. Right now, running the smooth cream of shampoo and conditioner through her tangled curls, finally feeling the relief of freshness – it was better than any lay she'd had. She'd battle an entire army of biters if it meant a well-stocked CVS and some clean lukewarm water.

Refusing to dirty one of their towels, she simply stood in the tiny bathroom and let herself drip dry, relishing the feeling of the grime and stress of the night before falling away. She wished she had more time before having to dress. She found it a bit funny that putting clothing on over damp skin was still such an annoyance to her, even in these times. In the past, she'd climb out of the shower and spend the following hour bare in her robe. She'd laze around her room for as long as she could. Languidly enjoying the feeling of the cheap polyester silk blend on her clean, naked skin. She'd leisurely apply her makeup and enjoy the feeling of femininity. It was one of her few and far between 'vices.' She doubted she would get to experience privacy like that for quite a long time now.

She cringed at the feeling of the cotton panties on her damp skin, the way the straps of her bra twisted and tangled against her shoulders. But she appreciated the feeling of cleanliness. She wouldn't sour this luxury with her own petty peeves. She slid into her jeans; already they were slightly looser at the waist and thighs. But the denim was soft from wear and she felt better for it. She pulled on a pale gray cotton v-neck tshirt and quickly ran her fingers through her hair in lieu of a brush. She was reluctant to leave the tiny bathroom space. For a few moments at least, she had been able to forget about the dangers and stresses of the world and focus on a much simpler (and more pleasant) task.

Val was seated on the small dining bench with the younger blonde, Amy. Amy was smiling and laughing, clearly fussing over the girl. Val was very easy to fuss over. Kristen had read once in a biology textbook that baby animals were so cute as a defense mechanism. Their appearance and demeanors were meant to encourage and manipulate stronger creatures into protecting them. Val's cuteness would surely not protect her from a biter, but Kristen was relieved to see that thus far she could incite the impulse in people outside the family.

Andrea looked up from her seat, and the map that she had been pouring over. "You look as good as new. It's a wonder the difference a shower makes, isn't it?"

"I had almost forgotten. Thank you all again, for everything. Especially the shampoo."

Andrea smiled. "You need to stop thanking us. It isn't even our shampoo or shower. Dale picked us up when we were in a tough spot like yours. This is just what people do these days. We all have to look out for each other."

Kristen nodded and swallowed. She sat on the bench beside her sister and sat quietly as she listened to the young woman and Val chatter. She allowed herself to become absorbed in her thoughts.

She felt almost guilty. If the situation had been reversed, would she have helped these people? Personally, she felt that she would – if it were only her life at stake. But in the pit of her stomach she knew, she'd deny the rest of the world if it meant protecting her family. This included protecting herself to an extent. Val and Liam's wellbeing depended in part on her self-preservation. The thought lead her to Daryl. Without even a thought for his safety, he had thrust himself into the middle of danger for them. Where did his intentions lay? Was he simply chivalrous or was he dangerous, foolhardy? The kind of man of action who thinks not of consequences. Did it really matter what sort of man he was anyways? Val was safe and sound beside her.

Her thoughts must have been clear on her face, for Andrea spoke up. "It's odd at first, isn't it? Being around strangers. Trusting people." Kristen looked up as Andrea continued, "Before Dale came along, I thought the only person left in the world that I could depend on was Amy. There are still good people though. There isn't any reason that we should all have to go through this alone."

Kristen could feel her defenses crack ever so slightly. She thought of Carol and her young daughter. She thought of the dead couple in the SUV she had taken, who had obviously struggled to stick together until the very end. She thought of Daryl.

She looked at Val beside her. Without the assistance of these strangers, Val would be dead. She'd be dead. Maybe allowing them to fall in with a group wasn't such a bad thing. Maybe they didn't have a choice.

She looked from Andrea to Amy and for the first time was able to see the potential. Not only the potential for survival, but the potential for meaningful, human connections.

Despite this, she was still sure that should the situation arise – they wouldn't hesitate to sacrifice the safety of her or her family for each other's. And Kristen knew for that, she could never blame them.

Daryl wasn't sure what he expected to find when he arrived back at his and Merle's camp. He hadn't really thought that Merle was in any danger. Maybe only in danger of overdosing. He thought Merle would be annoyed or angry with him for disappearing for so long. He hadn't really expected any concern. But he was surprised by how cavalier Merle seemed.

He peered at his older brother, "I was gone for over twelve hours. Did you even notice? How high were ya?"

Merle scoffed lightly, at least he seemed to be in good spirits. "Ah baby brother, don't get your panties in a bunch. I figured you's was just gettin' laid by that bitch from before." His face got serious. "Ya did get laid, right?"

Daryl clenched his jaw and Merle laughed. "Ya didn't, did ya? You's always was a bit of a pussy. Bet you spent the whole night lookin' after those brats and didn't even get nothin' for it."

Daryl sneered at his brother. "Just because ya got a gun and a cock doesn't mean that women owe you anything."

"Well 'course it does, little brother. There's a reason that men got strength and women got those nice, soft little bodies. If you weren't such a girl, you'd get that."

Daryl was beginning to feel uneasy about inviting Merle along to the quarry.

"Dale, one of the men from last night, he said they know a safer spot to camp. A bunch of them are gonna head on over soon."

"Oh yeah? And they invited you along for playin' hero? They watch you beat a few biters and suddenly they think you're good enough for them?"

Daryl rolled his eyes. "What else are we gonna do, Merle? Keep wearing out the truck and bike? Keep skinning squirrels on our own?"

"No Daryl, we keep _surviving_ on our own. Ain't none of those people matter."

Daryl's thoughts turned to Kristen and her family. He needed to change Merle's mind.

"Fine Merle, none of those people matter. But that ain't no reason that we can't go the quarry with them. Think about it, there'll be more safety in numbers. More supplies, more opportunity."

Merle wrinkled his brow as he thought about it. "You think they'd be easy enough to rip off? Get 'em settled in and quiet. Take stock of 'em and then bleed 'em dry of supplies?"

Self-preservation.

A slight repulsion was building up in Daryl's chest. He wasn't sure how confident he was that he'd be able to talk Merle out of that plan. But at least it would allow them to get to the quarry. For right now, that was the only thing that mattered.

He thought of Kristen, beside him, swinging her bat at the walkers. The image of her having to swing the bat at he and Merle came to mind. But that was something that he would have to worry about later.

They broke down their camp and loaded everything in the back of Daryl's pick up truck. Merle followed him on the bike to the vicinity of Dale's RV. A few people had already gathered around to wait and see what the plan would be. Daryl took stock of the strangers.

Aside from the two blondes, there was a tall dark haired couple with a young boy. The boy's light complexion and hair was a stark contrast to the two adults. Daryl wondered if he could possibly have come from the two of them. The dark haired man spoke with the confident arrogance of authority that the Dixons reviled. The woman beside him was tall and rail thin. She reminded him of a frightened rabbit, the way her eyes darted from the young boy to every possible threat around them. She eyed Daryl and Merle uneasily. Knowing Merle's less-than-innocent intentions, he couldn't even fault her for it.

A young Asian guy was leaning against the RV with his arms crossed. Daryl looked around expecting to see more Asians with him, his family. Clearly, the kid was on his own. Besides him, there was an African American man and woman and a Hispanic family. Daryl hoped that Merle would behave himself. Merle's race relations weren't the strongest.

The group continued to grow as more people filtered in. Some greeted one another warmly and spoke in hushed tones. Most of the people stood quietly, as though waiting for direction. The dark hair man seemed to be working at making introductions. Nobody bothered to come over and introduce themselves to the Dixons.

There was no sign of Kristen or her family and it was making him uneasy. He didn't want to admit to himself that the whole point of him convincing Merle to come along was because he wanted to be near them. He made an effort to not appear to be looking around too eagerly. Merle was pretty perceptive when it came to his younger brother. If he caught wind that this was all about her, he'd never let Daryl hear the end of it.

Finally, he spotted the McCoys approaching with Dale – along with a shorthaired woman, a large man, and a small blonde girl. Val and the other young girl were whispering to one another excitedly. The shorthaired woman seemed nervous. The large man seemed largely annoyed at the whole situation. He hadn't gotten a clear look at Kristen when suddenly Val hurried through the group and ran up to him.

"Mr. Daryl! You came! I asked Krissy if you were going to come with us and she said I'd have to wait and see so I waited and now here you are!"

"Uhh yeah, kid."

The little girl just stood there with her hands clasped behind her back, swaying slightly and smiling up at him. She hardly seemed to even be wary of Merle. Merle just looked down at her, bemused. For once, even he seemed speechless.

"Val, come on. Quit bugging them." Sean's tone was sharp, his words concise. Daryl was sure that he was less concerned with Val bugging them and moreso with keeping his little sister away from the big scary redneck. Daryl clenched and unclenched his jaw in irritation. Just hours ago he had been risking his life to save that kid.

To his left, he could hear Kristen conversing with Andrea and Amy. He tried to stop himself from looking over. After everything they had been through, a childish part of him thought that she would have planted herself right with him and Merle. The way you feel when someone invites you to a party where you don't know anyone and then they ignore you for the other guests. He was just starting to stew when he felt her beside him, placing her hand gently on his arm.

"You guys made it. I'm glad." She smiled warmly at the two of them. Despite the small gesture making him feel warm in his chest, Daryl just pulled his mouth into a tight light and nodded. He was always a bit stilted, especially with women, whenever he was with Merle.

Merle glanced from her to Daryl and scoffed loudly. Kristen's brows shot up and she looked Merle, challengingly in the face. "Got something to say, big boy?"

Merle leered down at her suggestively. "Oh nothin' sweetheart. It's just startin' to be clearer why Daryl was so adamant about headin' off to the quarry with y'all."

Daryl's neck burned as he shoved at Merle. "Come on, fuck off." But Kristen just laughed, she was used to living with brothers after all. "Well aren't you just a good big brother then for following Daryl on his lengthy chase for some tail."

Merle grinned flirtatiously, "Oh, you don't even know. I'm the best there is." Kristen rolled her eyes good-naturedly and Daryl felt himself relax slightly. He chanced a few side-glances at Kristen though and could have sworn that she was blushing.

Everyone fell silent as the dark haired man, who incidentally was called Shane, began to speak. He outlined a basic plan for all of them. Gave directions to the quarry. He spoke about how if they were all going to go together, they were going to have to work together. They were going to have to trust one another and pull their weight. Guilt gnawed at the pit of Daryl's stomach as he thought about Merle and his plan to rip the survivors off. Hopefully he'd have a good number of days to figure out what to do about it.

The time came to depart and everyone gathered their remaining possessions and climbed into their vehicles. He watched as the McCoys piled into their new SUV. A strange sort of protectiveness and pride washed over him. He was glad to see them tucked safely inside the large vehicle. He was proud to say that he had helped make that happen. It was a new sensation.

The drive to the quarry wasn't very long but the convoy had to slow once or twice to make sure that everyone was still accounted for. Each time they slowed down Daryl could hear Merle cursing over the roar of his motorcycle. Group dynamics were something that he would just have to get used to.

Inside the SUV, Val chattered away happily about getting to go live in the quarry with her new friend Sophia and the other kids. Kristen smiled at the sound. For the first time since they'd left Boston she wasn't feeling completely hopeless. Even Sean and Liam seemed to be slightly more lighthearted. In no way was she fully trusting or dependent on their new group, but having more eyes open, more hands to help food – that could only be a good thing.

She was especially glad that Daryl had decided to come. Even if it meant bringing along his brother. It was obvious, even to her, that around Merle, he acted like a different person. She understood it to an extent though. And even Merle didn't seem _so_ bad. He was a bit rough around the edges sure, but like good things, sometimes good people were just harder to get through to.

When they arrived at the quarry, everyone parked their vehicles along the perimeter of their new camp. The vehicular boundary offered little protection but everyone seemed to feel slightly more at ease regardless. They unloaded their cars and those with tents set them up. For the first time, Kristen felt comfortable enough with letting Sean and Liam set up their two small canvas tents. Before now, she had insisted on them all sleeping inside the car.

Shane started a small fire, keeping the embers low enough to not attract any attention or create too much smoke. They polled together their food supplies and Kristen helped prepare a small communal meal, volunteering the use of their Coleman stove. She was struck by how well everyone worked together but in the back of her mind thought, _people must be holding out some supplies. They'd be stupid not to._

Throughout all of this, the Dixon brothers largely kept to themselves. As Kristen and the others mingled and chatted with their new neighbors, the two brothers just sat on the ground outside their tents. Even as small plates of beans and rice were passed around, they remained silent and largely ignored by the rest of the group. After having served her siblings, Kristen prepared two plates and brought them over.

"Come on, take the plates. Don't be annoying." Daryl expected Merle to have an attitude about it. As they had sat there, Merle was complaining about the group treating them like outsiders. _See what I told ya, you're good enough to fight for them but not good enough for them to ask ya to sit with them._ Daryl had tried to tell him that they weren't exactly making any effort to interact with the rest of the group either but Merle wasn't having it. Now here he was, almost happily accepting the food from Kristen. As much of an asshole as he could be, sometimes all Merle wanted was a bit of positive attention. Both brothers looked up in surprise as Kristen sat down, right between them. Like when she had finished his beer and smoked his cigarette, Daryl was amused by her boldness.

Leaning back on her hands, she stretched her legs out in front of her and gazed over into the fire. It was obvious that she was watching her siblings. Val was quietly playing with the other kids, under the careful eye of the shorthaired and the thin woman, introduced to them as Carol and Lori, respectively. Sean and Liam were conversing quietly with Glenn, the Asian guy and T-Dog, the African American.

"They're planning on going into Atlanta for a supply run tomorrow." She gnawed nervously on her bottom lip.

"Sean thinkin' about goin'?"

"Yeah. He's insisting. Not like I could stop him anyways. I don't know though. You saw how he was last time there were a lot of those things. He just froze up."

"Well, he's gonna have to get over that. Goin' into Atlanta could help."

She let out a deep sigh. "I guess so."

Daryl was surprised when Merle turned to Kristen. "Ya raise them kids for a while?"

She nodded, not taking her eyes off of Sean and Liam. "Yeah, they've been mine since I was 17. Well I guess pretty long before that too."

Merle sighed in a way that was almost thoughtful. "Goddammit. I was thinkin' bout goin' into Atlanta tomorrow myself. There are a few things I need. I'll try and keep an eye out for the kid for ya."

Kristen's eyes lit up. Almost involuntarily she reached over and gave Merle a small hug. He seemed so thrown off guard by the gesture that he didn't even make a suggestive comment.

Daryl knew that his brother had a bit of a soft spot for kids and he could see why he'd form one for Kristen too. Both of them had stepped up to raise their siblings when their parents had fucked off. Even if admittedly, it seemed like Kristen had been more of a natural at it than Merle. Daryl also knew though that Merle's trip to Atlanta most likely involved him looking to score some pills.

Kristen smiled brightly at the two of them. Merle put on a sour face but Daryl could tell that a small part of him was secretly pleased with himself. "Now don't go an get yourself all worked up. Ain't like I'm gonna take a bullet for the kid or nothin'. If he gets himself killed, it ain't on my head." Merle left his finished plate on the ground and retired to his tent.

For the first time since they took the SUV, Daryl and Kristen found themselves alone. Or as alone as they could be in this new camp. She turned to him almost shyly.

"You thinking about going into Atlanta tomorrow too?"

From her tone of voice, Daryl couldn't tell what answer she would want to hear. Was that concern in her question? Was she hoping that he was going to stay at camp? Was she hoping he'd go along and protect Sean again? Would she think him a coward for staying? He decided it was just easier to tell the truth.

"I was thinking about goin' hunting tomorrow. The woods here should be a good place to track. People are gonna need some fresh meat."

She spoke almost without thinking. "Good. We're lucky to have you here. I don't think anybody else knows how to hunt."

"Ya'll should learn. At the very least learn how to shoot. This quarry might be safer but I doubt by much."

"I'd really love to learn. I'd even try at hunting."

He gave her a small grin. "Yeah? You think you could shoot a cute little bunny through the eyes." He pulled out his pack of cigarettes and lit one as he inhaled the sweet smoke. He hadn't even really wanted a smoke. A part of him was just hoping that she would share it with him.

And sure enough she did. Taking the cigarette from his lips and putting it to her own she grinned mischievously. "No, you're right. I wouldn't kill the little rabbit. What _I'd_ do is catch myself a few live ones. Build a pen and leave them all together. You know, to screw like rabbits. Before you know it, I'd have myself a little herd of mass-producing, effort-free, fresh meat and fur." She passed the cigarette back to him and cocked her eyebrows playfully, as though to say _so there._

He considered her seriously for a moment. "That's actually really fuckin' clever. Maybe you won't die as fast as I thought you would." He took a drag of the cigarette and watched her, his eyes dancing.

"Well I'm really fucking clever, I guess. And you're just a dick." She laughed as she reached for the cigarette. At this point the cigarette had burned away enough that her fingers lightly brushed against his lips as she took it. "And for that, I'm finishing the smoke."

Even so, she still offered him a final drag before it was gone.

They sat together in a comfortable silence, watching the fire and the people around them. A few times when one of them would adjust their position, their arms would brush together. At one point Kristen moved and just stayed there, her shoulder flush against his. It was such a small thing but the gesture made him go warm all over. It wasn't even the physical aspect of it- it was the intimacy. The fact that neither of them felt the need to move away said more than either of them was able to. It felt as though they were beginning to fall in step with one another.

Eventually, Kristen tilted her head and looked at him. "I better go check on the kids. Try and get Val into bed. Doesn't matter if the world is falling apart. She still has a bedtime. What time are you heading out tomorrow?"

"I'm gonna wait and see them off to Atlanta first. Probably be gone a while. Tracking takes time."

She nodded, "Well come find me before you go. I'll pack up some food and stuff for you to take with you. And remember to keep an eye out for rabbits." With that, she gathered up his and Merle's plates and retreated back to the fire. He watched as she pulled both of her brothers into tight hugs and dragged her reluctant little sister off to bed. Once, he caught her glancing over at where he was still sat. She quickly looked away.

He retired to his own tent and easily fell fast asleep.


	8. Chapter 8

**MIGHTIEST OF GUNS**

**CHAPTER EIGHT**

The first light of dawn was just beginning to crack the sky when Kristen awoke. Gently, she rose from her sleeping bag, careful to not disturb Val. She tucked the corners of the quilt around the girl's small frame and watched her sister for a moment. She hoped that Val would be able to sleep a few more hours. She'd let the girl sleep all day if she could. Without a doubt, whatever dreams she may have were superior to this life.

Ducking, she exited the tent and took a minute to stretch out her limbs. The soreness in her arms from swinging the bat was just beginning to fade. Lifting them overhead, she pulled her hair up into a sloppy top knot and twisted around to stretch her spine. She cringed at the series of cracks and pops of her joints as she twisted. She had always been a restless sleeper but the confines of the tent and the hard ground made it especially difficult. Not to mention that Val would cling to her in the night like a limpet.

She had to admit though, it was easier getting through the night with the comfort of another person near – even if it just was her baby sister. It had been at least a year since she'd shared a bed with someone. Sure, she had been with guys but she always had reservations about taking them home, bringing them around Val.

Her last serious relationship had ended about a year and a half before all this trouble started. He had been good to her. Had insisted on helping with money, was nice to the kids, treated her right. She really wanted to love him. She tried to love him. But she couldn't force the feeling after a while. He had been a comfort at times though. Her turn to finally cling to someone. Someone solid and warm. She found it especially difficult to sleep after they broke up. Not from any sort of longing for him personally, just the readjustment to her loneliness. In sleep, her body would curl up as though reaching out for him. She'd wake up each morning with her body misaligned, an ache through her spine and collarbones.

She remembered her promise to start doing press ups and lowered herself to the ground. She was pleased that nobody else seemed to be awake. She stretched back her legs and raised herself up to plank position. Slowly she bent at the elbows and lowered her chest towards the ground. Raising herself back up, her arms shook like jello. She could feel her face burn bright red – partly from the exertion but mostly from shame at her own physical weakness.

She forced herself through about a dozen when her own small grunts were interrupted by the footsteps of another. She scrambled up to her feet, unsure why she should feel embarrassed about trying to strengthen herself. She was relieved to see it was only her brother.

"Weird time to start working on your fitness, sis." He asked the question playfully but she could tell that he was a bit on edge. No doubt he was nervous about making the trip into Atlanta. Probably not as nervous as she was though.

"Yeah, figured it was time to achieve that perfect beach body." She looked her brother over. "You doing okay? It's been a weird couple of days."

He smirked at her, "Couple of days? I think everything stopped seeming weird when people started turning into undead cannibals."

"I mean with us, with the family. With coming to this place. I guess we didn't really discuss it before making the decision. Are you okay with all of this?"

Sean shrugged noncommittally. "It doesn't matter. I'm not the one in charge anyways. Besides, what other options did we have? After I fucked up the car, it's not like we could stay there."

She reached an arm out for her brother. "Sean, it's not about who gets to be in charge. It's about surviving now. I made the call for us to come to the quarry because I thought, and I still do think, that it was the best choice for keeping us all safe. You know that right? You know your opinions matter to me above anybody else."

He looked her straight in the eye, "Then why didn't you ask me about coming to the quarry? You didn't ask me how I felt about suddenly falling in with all these strangers. You seemed pretty chummy talking about it with that redneck though. I guess I can't even blame you. Why should my opinion matter when I couldn't even protect Liam and Val from a few biters."

Kristen looked on dumbstruck. "Seany, come on. It's not like that at all. I'm sorry I didn't talk to you about it more. You're right, I should have. But you're also right that you can't blame me. We're all just doing the best we can. So I consulted a few other people? These men are hunters, military, police officers. We're going to be safer here. Think about Val! She even gets to be around other kids here. And if I remember correctly, you were kind of being an asshole yesterday. Every time I tried to talk to you, you'd leave."

A sheepish blush crept to Sean's cheeks. He opened his mouth to speak but Kristen continued. "Look, I get it. The only reason you were upset is because you want to provide the best for us. You don't have to apologize for that. But you do have to trust me. And right now, I think trusting these people is the best thing for us. And if you're needlessly going on this raid today just because you feel like you need to 'prove yourself' then I swear to God, Sean – I will gouge your eyes out and murder you."

Sean broke into a small smile. "You always were such a sweet sister." They walked over to the small fireside to get started on breakfast.

Sean collected water from the nearby stream as Kristen lit their small stove and slowly cooked some oats. She wasn't entirely comfortable yet with cooking over an open flame. One by one people slowly started to rise. Carol and Lori were the first. Carol rummaged through her pack and even procured a few teabags. Kristen gratefully accepted one. The three women sat by the stove in the quiet morning light, musing over how things were so different, yet still the same. The kids would still complain about the bland oats.

An anxious energy seemed to permeate throughout the camp. It was easy to spot those making the trip to Atlanta (and their families) because they buzzed around nervously. Kristen watched as Amy packed and unpacked Andrea's bag. As though her meticulousness would be the deciding factor in whether or not her sister came home unscathed. Kristen's heart went out to her. She made a mental note to seek her out today.

She stood over the stove and stirred the pot of oats. Even now, she could tell that food was going to be an issue. She looked at the meager pot and mentally tallied the number of people it would have to feed. She went around dishing out servings to the members of the camp, careful to measure them out equally. After the food was properly portioned out, she covertly divided her dish into threes, emptying it into her siblings. She nearly jumped at the voice behind her.

"Ya have to eat too, ya know." Daryl's voice was gruff and surprisingly stern. She tried to keep her voice light.

"I never really sit for a meal while I'm cooking. I was picking at the food as I went along." The lie came easily to her. It was one that she (and thousands of parents across the country) made regularly to make the food stretch.

He eyed her skeptically. "Ya were pickin' at and eating uncooked oatmeal?"

She put on a smile. "It's a New England delicacy."

He shook his head and lowered his eyes, offering her his own dish. "No. Eat."

She blushed and shook her head. "You get lots of gentleman points for that one but it's just not practical. You're hunting, you need the food. Sean is going to Atlanta, he needs the food. Liam and Val are growing kids. I'm just going to be lazing around camp all day not exerting any energy."

He didn't lower his plate. "Just take it. I can go a while without eating and be fine."

She raised her eyebrows playfully. "And you think I'm can't? I bet I could not eat circles around you."

His tone was serious. "Well, hopefully we won't have to test that out for a while yet."

She smiled again, this time a bit sadly. "How about we split it then?" She took his dish and scraped some of the oatmeal into her own bowl. When she handed it back to him, he reached for the spoon and gave her a bit more.

After everyone was fed, the women washed up while the Atlanta group made their final preparations to leave. Kristen felt a lot of respect for Andrea and Jacqui, being brave enough to make the trip. She liked to think that she would be brave enough but she knew she could never leave Liam or Val at the camp without her. She wondered if they were a valid excuse for her own potential cowardice.

As the group said their goodbyes, she watched as Val clung to her oldest brother's legs. Even she understood that the journey was most likely going to be a dangerous one. Sean tried to calm her down. He promised he'd keep his eyes open for any treats for her. Even Liam pulled his brother into a quick hug. Kristen said a silent and selfish word of thanks that at least one of her brothers was remaining behind.

She watched for Merle, hoping for a meaningful word or look. Anything to reaffirm his promise to watch out for Sean. But when she saw him, he was sweating profusely. His eyes were shifty and his nerves were wrecked. She knew instantly that he was high. A familiar frustration and dread rose up her spine as Sean pulled her into a hug. Into her ear he breathed, "Yep, I know. The redneck. I'll be careful."

She tried to force a smile and a brave face. She had already been fearful about Sean making the trip. Seeing the state of Merle now made her even more uneasy. They piled into the vehicles and pulled away from the camp.

Almost instantly, the energy of the camp changed. Their lack of presence was palpable immediately. Kristen did her best to keep busy. She straightened up their tents, collected laundry from Val and Liam. She made plans with Carol to bring their clothing down to the nearby stream.

When it came time for Daryl to leave for his hunt, she found it hard to look him in the eye. She prepared him a meal to take with him, as promised, but was unsure what to say to him. Seeing a doped up Merle had triggered some underlying fear and unease inside of her. Especially so, knowing that he was in a potentially deadly situation with her brother. Of course none of this was Daryl's fault. It just seemed difficult to look at him without having to acknowledge her fears head on.

Daryl was perceptive enough to realize that her demeanor towards him had changed. He furrowed his brow and worked up the nerve to confront her. "What?" Nobody said that he was going to be eloquent about it.

She answered him without looking at him, seeming incredibly too transfixed on a nearby rock. "Nothing. Just worried about the Atlanta group. Worried about our brothers."

Her meaning sunk in. _Shit_, Daryl thought. "Ya mean because Merle was high?"

She looked him in the eye for the first time, almost shyly. "Yeah."

Daryl rubbed the back of his neck and swore. This was a long held habit – having to apologize on account of his brother. "I'm sorry about Merle. Your brother will be fine though. If anything Merle on coke is better in situations like that then when he's sober. If I could keep him off drugs, I would."

Kristen instantly felt ashamed for treating Daryl differently because of his brother. She knew from experience how difficult it was being related to an addict. Not only interacting with them and their addiction, but having to always feel responsible for their actions. Having to face outsider's judgment and treatment based solely around their loved one's addiction. She should know better than to make Daryl feel like he had to apologize.

She was quiet for a moment, then started. "When I was little, I was in Girl Scouts for a year. I was a Daisy." Daryl looked bemused at the sudden story but waited for her to continue. "My mom volunteered to head the carpool one week. Said she'd drive to the church and give a few of the girls a ride home. Then she shows up and she's high out of her mind, swerving from side to side in the parking lot. The scout-leader was horrified. Of course she didn't let any of the little girls into the car. Word spread to the other parents and soon I stopped being a Daisy."

"What about you? Did you get in the car?"

"Of course I did."

x

The rest of the day dragged by. The women lugged the camp's laundry down to the stream and chatted as they somewhat futilely tried to beat the clothing clean against the rocks. Lori and Miranda gathered the kids together and even tried to give them a bit of schooling. They quickly grew disinterested. What did state capitals and the Civil War really matter now anyways?

Liam stuck close to Dale and Jim, examining the state of the cars. Liam was good with mechanics. He was good with looking at something and visualizing how it must work inside. Kristen was glad to see him getting along with Dale. As cliché as it was, being the middle child – Liam didn't always get the attention he needed. Seeing him interact with a few decent men reaffirmed Kristen's decision to join the group at the quarry.

Though they chatted animatedly, it was clear that their thoughts were with the others. Kristen and Amy especially. Every so often they would peter out mid sentence, go quiet with concern for their loved ones.

Kristen even found herself worrying for Daryl. Not only for his safety on his hunt, but for the safety of Merle. Nobody should have to lose a brother. She was grateful to Daryl for questioning her coldness. If her last interaction with him before his hunt had been an icy one, she'd surely be feeling guilt on top of all of her concern now.

"_Just come home alive."_

"_Shouldn't ya be wishin' me luck with bagging some game?"_

"_I guess that too."_

_x_

Tracking was slow work. Dale was right that it would be a bit safer in higher ground. There was no sign of walkers in these woods. There wasn't sign of any life. Besides half a dozen squirrels at his belt, Daryl felt he wasn't going to find any decent kill. Trekking deeper and deeper into the woods, his thoughts turned back to the group at camp. He felt like he had so easily fallen into it. He and Merle would have been happy to just have a few squirrels. But here he was now, trying to bag a deer. Trying to bring back enough food for a few dozen. And the strangest part was, he hardly felt resentful for it.

He thought of Kristen back at the camp. He was glad that she hadn't wanted to go on the Atlanta run. He was starting to feel a sort of protectiveness towards the girl. It was why he had insisted on her eating this morning. Why he was busting his ass to bring food home now, with her in mind. The thought of her in the relative safety of the camp made him more comfortable with being off hunting. _You're just looking out for her because she's nice to you. She's nice to those kids._ Even in his own mind, it sounded like a lie.

He spotted a buck about ten yards ahead and set to tracking.

x

Back at the camp, tensions started to run high as the hours passed. Kristen, Amy, and Miranda were on high alert for any sign of the Atlanta group's return. As the sun waned in the sky, their anxieties grew.

Kristen busied herself with helping prepare and serve dinner. She read a bit of Harry Potter to the girls. Sat and talked with Liam about Daryl teaching him to hunt upon his return. None of these tasks could fully distract her from her worries though. For a long time, the group sat in relative silence – each distracted by their own concerns.

Dale looked up ominously from his radio. Though the signal a poor, a garbled message from T-Dog came through the airwaves. They were trapped in a department store. They were surrounded. Amy and Kristen were immediately on their feet, shouting, making plans. They had to go after them obviously. They couldn't leave their families there to die.

Shane spoke sympathetically but firmly. "We aren't risking anyone else in the group. I'm sorry but there is nothing we can do."

Amy could barely contain herself. "We're just gonna leave her there? She volunteered to go to help the rest of us!"

Shane was unmoved. "She knew the risks. If she's trapped, she's gone; you just have to deal with that."

The women could hardly look at him. Kristen's practical side understood that he meant well. He could certainly use some work on his bedside manner though. It didn't change the fact that Sean was in danger.

"They understood the risks, yes. Well, we understand the risks if we decide to go back for them."

Shane shook his head at Kristen. "What are you going to do? Can you shoot? Can you fight? What about the rest of your family? I know this hard but you have to know that you have to do what's best. And you know that staying here is best."

She didn't want to listen but she had to admit that he was right. She put an arm around Amy and the two women sat in painful silence and waited.

There was no relief until a loud ringing broke the spell of grief. Interrupting all of their thoughts, a car alarm could be heard wailing towards them. Shane flew to the top of the RV and grabbed the binoculars from Dale. Racing down the highway was a sports car, followed not too distantly by a large white van. It had to be them.

Glenn arrived first in the car. Shane and Jim immediately went to work at disarming the alarm, hoping to prevent the attraction of biters. Amy nearly lunged at Glenn enquiring after her sister. Kristen could barely restrain herself from doing the same.

Luckily for their sakes, the white van was close behind. The back doors opened to reveal, to their relief, the same number of bodies that had set out in the morning. It would take Kristen a moment though to realize that not all of the faces were the same. She was too preoccupied with relief upon seeing Sean. A sharp contrast to the shocked and fearful young man from the previous days – he seemed excited and full of life. Adrenaline was still running from their haul. Amy cried tears of relief as she hugged her sister. Sean lifted Val into the air and spun the girl round and round while she squealed in delight. Despite all the joy, something was off.

There was no Merle. There was a stranger among them.

Kristen watched in disbelief as the new man stepped forward. As it was revealed that he was Lori's husband, Carl's father. The reunion was touching but she was more preoccupied with the fate of Merle. Not that she was overly fond of Merle, but it didn't seem right that someone should be missing and people shouldn't care. She thought of Daryl, off hunting to feed them all. How he was going to react when he came back to find his brother missing.

After the raiding group had a chance to settle in and have a meal, she sat beside Sean to discuss the day. He told her about Merle, high out of his mind. He had been volatile and threatening. Sean had tried to explain to them all that it was just junkie talk. He wasn't really a danger to them. But it made no difference. The new man, Rick, had handcuffed Merle on a roof. Through some kind of mistake, he got left behind.

Kristen again thought of Daryl and her blood started to boil. He hadn't just been lost to biters. He had been trapped, made to suffer. She immediately felt a sort of distrust for Rick. It had only been a few days but she already felt strangely loyal to Daryl, and even to Merle. Having substance abuse problems didn't make him less than human. Didn't mean he deserved to die like a caged animal.

Sensing her unease, Sean spoke up. "He's not a bad guy, Rick. He made a tough call and he regrets it. I think he's going to go back and try and get Merle."

Her anger dissipated slightly. Sean was a very tough judge of character. If even he said Rick wasn't a bad guy, then he must have some decency. It didn't mean that she was going to trust him right off the bat though. It didn't make up for what he did to Merle. To Daryl.

One by one, the survivors headed off to bed. She sat awake at the small fire for ages. She knew that she should be relieved. She should be cuddled up in the tent with Val, content in the thought that her family was all in one place. But she couldn't stop thinking about Merle trapped on the roof. It took a while for her to realize that she was still awake because she was waiting up in case Daryl came back. Eventually Val popped her head out of the tent. She couldn't sleep without her big sister. Kristen gave up her silent vigil and went to bed.

The next morning was uneventful. Rick announced his plans to head back for Merle. A move that increased his esteem in Kristen's eyes by at least a bit. They all enjoyed a small breakfast and the kids gathered to play. The change in Carl was immense. Even with her worries, seeing the way his face lit up made her heart feel lighter than it had in a long time. Lori seemed strangely uneasy though. Kristen had assumed that Shane had been her boyfriend all along. Obviously there was more to that dynamic than she currently knew.

She overheard them question what they should tell Daryl about Merle. _The truth obviously._ She already decided that regardless what they told him about his brother, she would tell him what really happened. She would have Sean tell him exactly what happened. Even in the confines of the group, people knew where their deepest loyalties lay. Hers was with him.

The children screamed and Kristen was on her feet running towards them before the sound even fully registered in her mind. In the clearing outside the camp, a biter was feasting on the carcass of a dead deer. The deer had an obvious bolt through its heart. Her fear at the sight of it was only outshone by the jump in her heart at the sight of the bolt. Daryl must be nearby.

The men beat the walker as Dale took it's head off with a shovel. They all expressed fear at its presence in the vicinity of the camp. They were running out of food in the cities. At the sound of footsteps, Shane raised his gun. Daryl appeared out of the brush, swearing at the state of the deer.

"Goddammit, I was tracking that for miles." The walker's eyes shot open as its decapitated head started writhing around, chomping at the air. Daryl rolled his eyes and shot a bolt into its temple. "Come on people, what the hell? It's gotta be the brain- don't y'all know nothin'?" He was obviously a bad mood. Kristen's stomach dropped.

Heading back to the camp he started yelling for Merle. Looking for help skinning the dozen squirrels he brought back. Kristen wanted desperately to grab him for a moment alone. She didn't know why she wanted to be the one to tell him. Why she felt like she should be the one to tell him. Of course Shane steps in with his sparkling bedside manner. Matter-of-fact. Your brother isn't here.

In the blink of an eye, a fight broke out. It happened so fast that she wasn't even sure what happened. There was yelling and cursing, Daryl pulled a knife, and then found himself in a headlock. He seemed to calm down and really listened to what Rick had to say. Kristen admired his restraint. In his position she would at least be screaming and wailing.

They made a plan to go back for Merle. Daryl, Rick, Glenn, and T-Dog. Released from the sleeperhold, Daryl stormed off in the direction of his tent. Kristen was sure that he wanted to be alone but also knew that she couldn't not saying something to him. But, if she thought it was hard to think of something to say after seeing Merle high, now it was impossible. He was leaning into the driver's side of his pickup when she approached. She stood opposite, looking through the passenger's side window at him. The body of the truck between them somehow made it easier to look at him.

"So, the new guy's kinda of a dick, huh?"

She could tell that Daryl was upset but holding it in because his words came out mumbled. "What kinda guy leaves someone chained up to die?"

"Not the kind that decides to go back for them."

Daryl ran a hand over his face. She walked around the truck and lightly placed a hand on his back. "If anybody could survive that, it's your brother. You know that. All you need to worry about is how pissed he's going to be when you all get back."

Gently she slightly rubbed his back. "Maybe I'll go out while you're gone and bring home a new deer. One twice as big as the one you lost."

His mouth twitched at the shadow of a smile for a moment before his face turned dark. "That walker was really fuckin' close to camp. While I'm gone, ya need to keep both eyes open. Keep everyone close and keep the bat with you at all times. When I'm back, I wanna get you a gun. Get y'all shootin'."

He motioned to the squirrels. "And think ya could skin these for me? It'll hafta be done soon to keep 'em fresh."

Her eyes widened at the sight of the bodies and he smirked. She realized her hand was still on his back, absentmindedly moving in small circles. She suddenly felt self-conscious and took a small step away.

"Come home safe Dixon."


	9. Chapter 9

**MIGHTIEST OF GUNS**

**CHAPTER NINE**

"God, I would have loved to see Boston. All the history. All the famous places. It must have been so great to live in a college town." Amy sat at the edge of the stream, soaking her feet in the cool water. The morning had been rather relaxed. Merle's rescue team was still out, Dale vigilantly keeping watch for any sign of them from the top of the RV. A number of the group were currently taking advantage of the stillness of the day and basking in the sun along the small coast.

Liam and Sean exchanged wry smirks. The two boys were surely thinking about how the college kids were always the easiest to rip off. The ones who forgot to lock their cars and were careless with their wallets on a night out drinking. Kristen had been almost past the point of caring about those particular exploits. The rowdy college boys were always her least favorite patrons at the bar. They would leer, grope, fight and in the end leave the shittest tips. She understood that college students were expected to be poor, but if they (or more likely their parents) could afford those fancy-schmancy educations, they could sure as hell afford to throw her a few bucks tip.

Their neighborhood was far away enough from university square that whenever a few college kids happened by, it was obvious that they were out 'slumming.' They'd eye her up like she was kind of novelty – more than once she'd heard them mention 'trying out the local fare.'

Her favorite nights were those when 'certain organizations' would meet up for a pint and a night of talking trade. She made no claims to understand or know anything about the underbelly of Boston and Irish American crime. She just knew that the men that would meet were always incredibly kind to her, always tipped generously and broke up the ruckus. They'd fill entire tables, laughing and smelling of cigars. It was what she imagined large family get-togethers to be like. Uncles and cousins gathering for squabbles and stories.

She was surprised by how homesick this conversation was actually making her. Sighing wistfully, she turned to her brothers. "I actually miss Southie."

Sean smirked at her. "You wanna be back up with those fucking Massholes?"

She looked at the people around her, thought about the people they'd left back at home. She was still making up her mind. Amy continued with her preoccupation on Boston's higher education. "It must have been great though. Surrounded by so many universities, I don't know how you'd ever be able to choose."

Sean looked at her. "You know Amy, you're so right. That's why me and Kris didn't go, the choosing just one was too daunting a task."

Kristen rolled her eyes affectionately at her brother's sarcasm. Smiling at Amy, she gently continued. "Liam was definitely going to go though. We were already looking into UCB."

Amy's eyes lit up. "Oh! Is that University of Boston? I'd heard such wonderful things about the school."

A slight flush rose to Kristen's cheeks. Of course they weren't considering University of Boston. Like Liam could possibly be even considered for the University of Boston. Like they could even afford a sweatshirt from the University of Boston.

She was relieved when Liam spoke for the first time, his voice steady and proud. "No, UCB is the Urban College of Boston. It's a junior college." It made her feel slightly shameful. Not for their lack of education, compared to Amy and Andrea's – but ashamed for allowing herself to feel embarrassed about it. Why should she be worried about impressing these people anyways?

Inspired by Liam, she too spoke up. "UCB was a good school. It's where I got my GED."

Amy and Andrea eyed her rather strangely for a moment. Subconsciously reforming their opinions about her. Kristen thought that the two blondes were good women, but they couldn't help where they came from anymore than she could. It was probably deeply instilled in them to judge her. Subconsciously herself, she lifted her chin a fraction of a centimeter.

Still, Kristen was touched when Carol spoke, kindly trying to change the subject. "All I know about Boston is from 'Cheers' and Matt Damon. _Pahk the cah in Hahvad Yahd."_

Everyone smiled at her imitation. Kristen was reaffirmed of her initial suspicions that Carol was entirely genuine in herself. "You almost sounded like a real townie."

Andrea grinned, "And don't forget about the Kennedys."

A sound dangerously similar to whimper escaped Kristen's throat and her eyelids fluttered for the briefest of seconds. Sean laughed, "Don't even start. This girl here's been a total hoodsie for them since before I was even born. Our ma didn't have a single framed picture of us up but of course we had plenty of those jackasses."

Kristen shot him a look. "Seany, don't even start. Jack and Bobby, God bless their souls. If they were still around today, maybe we wouldn't be having all this fucking trouble."

He eyed her skeptically, "Yeah? You sure it's not just that you wanna experience _the presidential suite?"_

"How can you say that? I would _never_ have done that to Jackie O."

"I would." The group burst into laughter. Seemingly timid Carol surprising them once again.

As the sun rose high, the social pleasantries ceased and the group dispersed, setting into the day's chores. Kristen busied herself with Daryl's squirrels. Well, she set out with the intention to. He had demonstrated one for her before leaving with Rick. She had done her best to pay attention (relying on her strong stomach) but he had made it look too easy. He sliced through the small animal as easily as butter. She knew to cut from behind, through the animal's hind legs. Her knife kept getting caught on tissue, grisly ligaments, and tendons.

Chewing the inside of her mouth and breathing shallowly through her nose, she got through about five of them. She was sure that she ended up wasting a good deal more meat than he would have, but at least they'd have fresh meat for dinner. She tossed the carcasses in a large pot and went to find her brothers. She was sure that in some strange way, they'd be proud of her. She found them leaning against the SUV, speaking in hushed tones. Sean's earlier spry demeanor seemed markedly changed. She would be lying if she said she wasn't eavesdropping.

"Li, how could you have been so fucking stupid? I left you in charge of that one pack. That one thing!"

"Look, I'm sorry! I fucked up. I have the pack but the meds aren't there. Remember that night Val was bugging and we put them in the glove compartment so we could reach 'em quick. We never put them back in the kit."

"We're just going to have to go back and get them. If we leave now we can be back by nightfall. Back before they even notice we're gone."

"Yeah, like they aren't gonna hear us driving away…" Liam looked past his brother to see Kristen standing in the background, taking a deep breath and steeling herself. The pot of squirrels in her hands was largely forgotten.

"You forgot Val's inhalers?" Her tone was steady and flat. "And you were just gonna go back to that highway without telling me." It was obvious that she was seething. She would forget to blink when she was angry.

Approaching her brothers, she thrust the pot of squirrels into Sean's hands. "Take this to Jacqui or Carol. They'll be able to figure out a way to make it edible. Where's the gun? Liam, go get the gun. And the bat. Please."

Liam took off like a skittish pony. Sean just stared at his sister, clutching the cast iron pot of rodents. She wouldn't look at him.

"Kris, he didn't mean to forget the meds. Obviously, it was an accident."

Shaking her head, "Sean, it's not about the meds. I'm not upset about that. Obviously fucking stressed, but not mad at either of you. In fact, I should have been more on top of that too." She skied her eyes at her own self-perceived incompetence. "What I'm pissed about is that you two were just going to take off."

"We would have been back before you even knew it. It's not like we need to ask your permission to come and go. It isn't _just_ your car."

Kristen had to stop herself from smiling. This was feeling too much like the arguments they'd have before this trouble started. Sean wanting to borrow the family car to go to a party. Sean wanting to borrow the family car to go to a fight.

"You're right. You don't need to ask my _permission._ But we're family Seany. Look at Merle. Sometimes when people leave, they don't come back. You and Liam would just leave Val and me?"

"What choice do we have Krissy? God forbid something triggers Val's asthma. What else do you want me to do?"

"No, Sean. There is always some kind of choice. As much as I might hate to admit it, right now you're both physically stronger than me." She smiled wryly for a split second, "Even if your balls aren't bigger than mine. I don't want you and Liam going together. I don't even want you and me going together. Daryl said things could get dicey up here. I want you to stick with Val. Liam and me will go."

When Liam returned, Kristen debated for a moment whether they should take both weapons or leave one with Sean and Val. It seemed so ridiculous to her that suddenly that all they had was a bat and a gun. Daryl was right, they were going to need to stock up. In the end, Sean convinced them to take both just in case. Chances of the quarry falling under siege while they were away seemed very low. Besides, at the quarry they'd have much greater safety in numbers.

Kristen left quick word with Carol and Dale about where they were going. Shane and Lori protested at first, afraid that the drive could draw more unneeded attention to their camp. When Lori learned their reason for the trek though, even she couldn't disagree. Kristen pulled Val in for a long hug and reassured her that in a few hours she'd read some more Harry Potter to her and the other kids. She left out their reason for the journey. Even at eight years old, she knew Val would feel irrationally responsible if she knew her asthma was involved in their reason.

The roads were clear as they drove. Liam was largely silent, staring at the blur of trees out his window. Kristen was sure that he felt guilty. She did her best to joke with him, share the blame for forgetting the meds. He was like a bastion at times. No matter how hard you tried, chances were that you couldn't break through.

She focused on the drive, taking note of any landmarks or road signs. She was notoriously poor with directions. Constantly finding herself driving farther and farther into dangerous neighborhoods when simply trying to get to Dunkies for a coffee. Besides being careful to memorize the route back to the quarry, she thought it was probably best to become as familiar with the area as possible.

The miles seemed to stretch out even farther thanks to Liam's silence. Finally she saw the sign for the exit of the highway they had originally been stalled on. She pulled the car over to the side of the medium and scanned the stretch of pavement. Biters could be seen wandering aimlessly, scattered about the roadway. She was wary to drive the car any farther in. The sound of the engine and the exhaust would surely draw more attention than their human scent, mingled with all the rotting corpses.

She turned to Liam to formulate a strategy. They decided it was probably safest to stay in the car as long as possible. Even if the sounds did draw the half a dozen biters afoot, the sturdy SVU would provide greater protection. She'd bring the car up as far to the station wagon as she could. Liam would jump out of the car and quick go for the meds while she covered him with the gun. It was feasible enough.

Maneuvering through the graveyard of cars proved to be more challenging than she had anticipated. It reminded her of once speeding around a mall parking lot. A large flock of seagulls had gathered on the pavement. A young Liam begged her to drive through the flock, imagining that the birds would take flight spectacularly. Instead, the very cynical birds all stayed put – leaving a frantic Kristen to drive inch by inch careful not to hit any. Liam sobbed in the back seat wailing to her not to kill any seagulls.

She had hoped to pull the SUV directly parallel to the station wagon. Liam could have just climbed right out his door into the driver's seat for optimum coverage. But she was forced to park a ways away. Two or three biters were already converging on the pair. She wished she were a better shot like Daryl. Then she could easily eliminate the problem now. Going at them with the bat was always an option, but why get directly in harm's way if it wasn't necessary?

Reluctantly, she stopped Liam as he opened the door. "Are you sure you want to? I don't mind being the one to go. Besides, you're probably better equipped with the gun than I am."

He shook his head. "Nah, I'm the one who left them there. I know exactly where they are. It'll take a minute. Just cover me in case."

He exited the passenger side as she slid over and followed him. She remained outside the car, poised to jump in and drive if they should need to, and raised the gun. The highway was in a much dire position than they had left it. The pavement was littered with bodies of dead biters and half eaten, mangled corpses. Liam had to be careful to step over them. Careful that none of those mangled corpses were actually undead but just too pathetic to move.

As he reached the station wagon, the first biter approached him. Kristen positioned herself, as Sean and Daryl had demonstrated, and fired a shot. She had steeled herself for the reverb but it still shook her through her shoulders. The bullet had whizzed past the biter by about half a foot. She began to panic as the creature was nearing her brother. What if he froze up again and couldn't think to swing the bat? Frantically she shot again. Her nerves made the shot even worse, it missed by a clear two feet. All the while, Liam was focused on rummaging through the station wagon.

Fear bubbled through her chest as she thought, "Oh fuck it." Lowering the gun she rather unceremoniously ran towards Liam and the approaching biters. "Aye, what up kid?" she yelled at the walkers. "Come on, come on!" Liam popped his head up from the card, bemused. When he noticed what was happening, he swore under his breath – started shoving everything in sight into the duffel they'd brought.

The slowness of the walkers would be their saving grace. As one got closer she was able to steady herself enough to shoot it in the head. The bullet grazed its skull, not dismembering it, but slowing it down. Then she was able to finish it off. She knew Daryl would be shaking his head at all the ammo she was wasting though.

She struggled in the same fashion with the next one. With her lack of experience shooting, taking down two biters at once was challenging. She wished that she had kept the titanium bat. Guess, she was more of a blunt weapons kinda gal. She was shakily lining up her next shot when Liam came running from the station wagon, swinging the bat like Ted Williams. He literally smashed his way through the biter and yelled for Kristen to get in the car. The sound of the automatic lock clicking shut behind them was the sweetest sound she'd heard all day.

The drive back to the quarry was much more pleasant than before. Liam seemed to have experienced a large confidence boost. He had made up for his mistake and successfully had helped protect his sister from a walker. The sky was darkening but their moods were light.

X

Daryl was exhausted. Emotionally and physically, the day had been fucking tiring. Between his initial anger at Rick, their encounters with Guillermo, and his horror tinged with hope at discovering Merle's hand – he was ready for bed. He stayed largely silent on the ride back to camp. The men seemed alright with not talking. One bright spot was the guns, he was eager to get Kristen and her brothers better equipped. Get her practicing shooting. He had shown her a few stances and basic techniques but the girl was pretty shit at it.

His eyes fluttered shut for a split second as his exhaustion pulled at him. His mind wandered to the way she'd touched him when they were talking about Merle. He'd almost expected it to feel sisterly or motherly, the same way she must always comfort her family. But it had something more to it. It had made him go warm all over. He cleared his throat gruffly. The nearer they got to camp, the more eager he was to show her that he was alright The more eager he was to get alone in his tent and work through this shit in his head about Merle.

The van nearly swerved as they were all rocked by the sound of nearby gunfire. It had to be coming from the quarry. Rick stepped on the gas bringing them up as close as possible. The men flew from the van to find their greatest fears realized. In the dark, it was nearly impossible to distinguish who was who. Thank God for the obvious gait, sound, and smell of the walkers. Daryl drew his bow and shot again and again and again. He kept chancing a look away from his targets in a desperate search for Kristen. He keened his ears to try and distinguish her voice apart from the yells and cries.

He sees Amy on the ground, bloodied, Andrea kneeling over her in hysterics. He sees a sobbing Carol, a wounded Ed Peletier. He sees Lori with an arm around Carl and Val each. He runs over to them in the chaos, screaming at the little girl, "Where's your sister?" The little girl just sobs. He yells again and swears. Val just cries. Lori shoots him a dirty look, despite her wide-eyed fear. Like he said, he'd never been that great with kids.

Daryl ran through the quarry, shooting biters and trying to take stock of the remaining survivors. He found Sean smashing in the head of a female walker with the mallet from the RV. "Where's Kristen?"

Out of breath, Sean spoke rapidly. "Her and Liam aren't here. They had to go back to the highway for something. I thought for sure you'd pass them on the trip back."

Daryl's blood boiled. While a part of him was greatly relieved that she hadn't been here for this carnage, how could she have just left? She had seen how dangerous it was on the highway before. He swore loudly as he shot a bolt into the eye of another biter.

The night seemed to drag by. Slowly they were able to eliminate the direct threat of the walkers. Soon the campsite was littered with corpses, both friend and foe. Daryl sat silently at the hot coals with Sean. The fire had been put out completely for now, less they risk attracting more walkers. For the first time, he didn't even feel like Sean resented him. Perhaps they were just too distracted with worry for his older sister.

After what felt like years, they could hear the purr of an approaching vehicle. Everyone in the group had been on high alert, poised for another attack. Kristen and Liam appeared from the brush to find a dozen weapons raised to them. She gently lifted her hands, "Hey take it easy, it's just us."

Lori scoffed rather bitterly. "I'd like to see you take it easy if you'd been here for the night we had."

Kristen's brow furrowed in concern and confusion. Quickly she scanned the campsite. Upon seeing the pile of corpses, Andrea in tears, she seemed to lose it. Her eyes darted over the sea of faces in the group. Daryl knew she was seeking out Sean and Val. He hoped she was maybe seeking him out as well.

She kept her reunion with Sean and Val quick. It didn't seem appropriate for her to celebrate the safety of her siblings too much when Carol and Andrea were suffering the loss of family. Sophia going through the loss of a father. She insisted on Val sleeping inside the car with her. Liam and Sean had stayed up, volunteering to take a watch together.

In all of the chaos of the day and horror of the evening, she had almost forgotten to seek out Daryl and find out how the search for Merle went. She approached his tent and found him sat outside smoking. From the look on his face, she knew better than to share a drag.

"I'm sorry. It looks like it didn't go too well for you either."

He glared at her from under heavily lidded eyes but answered civilly enough. "Merle cut his fuckin' hand off to escape. Crazy sumabitch is out there somewhere missin' a fuckin' hand."

"But at least he's out there."

Daryl grunted and regarded her coldly. "Wha' the fuck were you doin'?"

Her brows shot up. "What are you talking about?"

"I'm talkin' bout you leavin' with your little brother and goin' back to that fuckin' road. We did almost die there, remember?"

"Liam forgot some of Val's medicine there. We had to go."

"Ya shoulda talked to me bout it first."

"Yeah? And why is that? Obviously we were perfectly capable of doing it ourselves. It's not like you're our keeper."

Daryl removed the cigarette from his lips and rose to standing. At his full height he had about four inches on her and he took advantage of them, looking down at her severely. "Ya see what happened here tonight? So fuckin' quickly it's all over. Go on, tell me how many bullets you wasted trying to make one shot. Tell me how you survivin' out there had nothing to do with fucking luck."

He was standing so close that she could feel his breath on her face. She could taste the nicotine on his breath. The sensation made her mind go hazy. He licked his lips and continued. "You're so fuckin used to being in charge. To always knowin' what to do. Well sweetheart, way things are now, you don't have a fuckin' clue compared to me."

He took a long drag of his cigarette, never taking his eyes off her. Her nose wrinkled slightly as she glared at him. She felt so conflicted that she couldn't find the words. A part of her knew that he was right, she should listen to him. A part of her stubborn pride was annoyed. A part of her was strangely aroused.

He seemed amused by her expression, taking the cigarette and placing it right between her lips. Begrudgingly, she couldn't resist inhaling the bittersweet smoke.


	10. Chapter 10

**MIGHTIEST OF GUNS**

**CHAPTER TEN**

The reality of the horrors of Amy's demise didn't fully sink in until Kristen was safely locked inside the SUV with Val. Stroking her sister's dark curls as the young girl slept listlessly, Kristen was overcome with emotion. So easily it could have been her little sister that was lost. So easily Val could have been the one to get up and go to the RV at that precise moment. She could be the one having to put a bullet into her baby sister's skull. She shuddered at the image and for a brief moment thought that she was going to be sick.

She cleared her throat and hardened her resolve. She would do whatever, _whatever_ it took to keep this little girl safe. Her bookend. She let out a deep sigh and Val stirred. None of them slept very deeply anymore.

"Krissy? You awake?" Her voice was soft from sleep and strained from fear.

"Yeah babe, you okay?"

"Amy. And Sophia's dad. And Mr. Jim. Is that going to happen to us?"

Kristen was quiet before swallowing back the lie of reassurance. She couldn't tell Val that they would all be okay, as much as she wanted to. "Remember the time that scary kid broke into the house? Remember how I had you and Liam lock yourselves in the bathroom while Sean and I took care of it? Remember how we took care of you?"

The little girl nodded fervently.

"We're always going to take care of you. Always."

She could barely make out the whites of Val's eyes in the moonlight as the little girl blinked back her unshed tears. The little girl spoke, her voice but a shy whisper.

"But who's gonna take care of you?"

A few hours after the group had scattered about to their own spaces to mourn, Daryl emerged from his tent. The campsite was littered with bodies, walkers and their own. Morning would bring with it the painful realization of their losses and difficult decisions. The bodies would have to be dealt with. Daryl had already begun to smash in the skulls of corpses, in an effort to be absolutely sure, when Rick stopped him – told him to take a few moments to collect himself. _Their sentimentality would be the death of them. _Daryl tried not to look over to the RV. Andrea remained huddled at Amy's side. They all felt like they were watching a bomb that was waiting to detonate. It would only be a few more hours before the girl reanimated and Daryl just hoped that Andrea would be strong enough to do what needed to be done.

The fire was but a dim flicker yet he could clearly make out Sean and Liam keeping watch.

He was pleased to see that the boys had stepped up in terms of bravery and ability. Sean had proven himself as a decent fighter in the skirmish earlier and obviously Liam had been able to hold his own with his sister at the highway. Although a bit relieved, he sneered at the thought.

He still couldn't process why Kristen thought it had been a good idea to take her younger brother with her and leave. So many things could have gone wrong. What if something had happened to her and they couldn't get back. He wasn't even sure if Liam knew how to operate a car. What if another horde had come through? He would have been happy to go back to the highway with Sean and get her the things she needed. If she could have just been fucking patient enough to wait for him.

Daryl stopped himself. He was starting to sound dangerously overbearing. What right did he have to tell them how to live what was left of their lives? He was past the point now of asking himself why he should even care. The truth was that he did care, there was no use denying it.

The reality was that within the confines of the group, there were smaller social subsets. Obviously families were more closely knit together. Dale, Andrea, and Amy had been a little group. Shane, Lori, Carl. The Peletiers. The Dixons. Now, _the Dixon._ A conflicted sort of guilt crept up Daryl's spine. He should be going off to look for Merle. But that would be no different than chasing a ghost.

He tried to make himself feel a deeper grief for the loss of his brother. Of course he was upset about it. But it wasn't like a punch to the gut sort of mourning. He was used to Merle vanishing for stretches of time. Military shit, juvy stints, weeklong benders. But he always came back. All he could do was trust that somehow Merle would come back from this too.

Without Merle, his social subset was now down to him. He wondered if that's why his pull towards the McCoys felt even stronger now. Some inherent need to settle himself in with a familiar unit. He never fared as well alone as he liked to imagine. Even more troubling was the question of whether or not they would accept him. Things hadn't started out all that great with the brothers and he knew that Kristen's decisions were intrinsic upon their opinions.

He cleared his throat and made the decision to join them on their watch. He felt strangely shy about approaching them, imagined that this is what it must be like to ask a father's permission to take out a daughter. He had never been the sort of man to bother to ask.

Liam was the first to hear him approaching. The boy may seem slight and quiet, but he had an alertness that could only aid in the survival of his family. He lowered his body slowly to the ground, taking a seat alongside the brothers.

"We have first watch. You should try and get some rest." Sean's voice was gruff but wasn't laced with the usual resentment or suspicion.

"Like anybody here is gettin' any sleep anyways." Daryl glanced around the camp. Things were quiet, apart from Andrea's occasional sob and the quiet banging of the RV door whenever Dale came over to fail at consoling her. But the camp lacked the silent hum of peace associated with rest.

"Sorry about your brother. Wish you guys could have found him." Liam's eyes quickly darted from Daryl's face to Sean's. Daryl was sure that the boy could only imagine how he would feel if faced with the disappearance of his own older brother. But Daryl wasn't 16. In fact, he had nearly 20 years on the kid. If one of their big brothers had to go missing, he was glad that it was his own. He nodded at Liam, an acknowledgement of silent thanks.

Sean cleared his throat, "What do you think is going to happen now? I imagine nobody is going to want to stay here very long. You talk to Rick or Shane?"

Daryl's eyes darkened. The sudden appearance of Rick was still a sore spot for him. Not only because of what had happened to Merle. He wasn't sure if he could trust this new sheriff. Not from a moral standpoint, but from a fear that the man wouldn't be able to muster up the balls to do what needed to be done to survive. The fact that the bodies of the walkers remained unburnt and disposed of spoke to that. If Rick was going to earn his respect and trust, he was going to have to step up.

Shane on the other hand, Daryl could tell that he was a man who wasn't afraid to do what needed to be done. Daryl could also tell that when it came down to it, Shane was the kind of man who would always be looking out for 'number one.' Daryl couldn't blame him, he was sure that he'd be the same way. But it left him with several reservations about putting his blind faith in the man.

He kept those opinions to himself though. "I doubt any of them know what we're gonna do yet. First they have to deal with them bodies anyways."

Sean nodded silently. He spared a glimpse over towards the SUV where his sister's slept, as though making sure that the coast was clear before he spoke. "Kristen wants us to get out of this quarry. She tried to hide it, but she's totally freaked about what happened. I think she just feels guilty that she and Li weren't here when it all went down."

Daryl swallowed hard. As irrationally annoyed as he was with her for heading back to the highway without proper consideration, he was thankful that she hadn't been here. If they hadn't have arrived back from Atlanta when they had, the situation at camp would have been much more dire. And as promising as she had been, swinging the bat with him at the highway – last night wasn't a slow march of targets, it was a bloodbath.

He thought back to their conversation earlier. He had been hard on her, harsh with her. Knowing now that she had been upset, he wondered if he should feel guilty for not being gentler. But he didn't feel a speck of guilt. Being gentle may make her like him but it sure as hell wasn't going to make her any safer. And he knew that if he could only have one, he'd choose the latter.

"Your sister is probably right to be freaked. The way things are lookin', it's only gonna get worse before it gets any better. Y'all need to get serious about survivin'. I know you have a gun but how good are you at shootin'? I got a few more firearms from the Atlanta raid. Soon as we have a plan, I want to get y'all practicin'. Especially your sister."

Liam shook his head. "She'd kill me if she knew I told you this - but her shooting at walkers when we were at the highway? She was so shit. She'd pretty much just close her eyes when she pulled the trigger and hope for the best."

Daryl grimaced at the image. Since the outbreak, it was almost like the world had reverted to more primitive times. He could see it in the group, in the dynamic. Male and female gender roles seemed so clearly defined. The other men in the camp might have been content to take charge of protection and leave the women to cook and do laundry. But he knew that in doing so, they weren't doing those women any favors. If anything, they were taking advantage of their domesticity and leaving them especially vulnerable. He could see it especially when he looked at Lori. Perhaps she wouldn't be so anxious, so overbearing with her fears, if she felt capable of protecting herself and her family. Daryl couldn't see that happening to Kristen, but he was going to do whatever could to help prevent it anyways.

"Yeah well, she knew where the trigger was at least. That's a start." He looked at the brothers seriously. "I already talked to your sister. Next time y'all need to make a little _excursion_ like that, come find me. Ain't worth a whole 'nother family gettin' separated."

x

Morning came as though unannounced. There was no restful respite between the days. As everyone sat still and quiet, the sky eventually lightened and they knew it was time to face the horrors of the night before. Kristen was oddly relieved for it. She had sat up all night in the SUV with Val. She had felt trapped and found breathing difficult. Craving nothing but a bit of fresh air, but she knew that she could never leave her baby sister alone in the car – not after what the little girl had suffered through the night before.

As the men dealt with the bodies, argued over the proper way to handle the corpses, she set about lugging water up from the stream. Pot by pot, she'd boil the water to make it fit for drinking and then pour it into a large plastic storage bin. When the bin was full, she dragged it into the shade in a weak attempt to make it cooler for drinking. She had a feeling that they wouldn't be remaining at the quarry for very long. She knew wherever they were going, they would need fresh, clean water to fill their canteens.

It reminded her of the winter that the pipes froze over. Liam dragged heaps and heaps of snow onto the back porch in his red plastic sled and they had boiled it and used it to fill the bathtub. She smiled softly at the memory. The four of them huddled in their coats in Maura's deserted bed, watching the snow fall. The night sky pink from the moon reflecting off the white earth.

She could do with some of that snow now. Rather than the current scent of burning corpses wafting through the stifling Georgia heat. She scolded herself for being offended by the smell. It was such a petty grievance compared to what others were currently dealing with. She could hardly look at Andrea. The woman's grief was too raw and too fresh. Kristen was sure that she would come undone if she got too close. Kristen was sure that deep down she was as selfish as anyone.

She came upon Sophia sitting quietly alone. The little girl seemed sad in a curious sense, but not in the way that one would imagine a child to grieve for a parent. She understood. She had worn the same expression the night she ran into her mother for the last night. Moreso than grieving the actual loss of your parent, you're grieving the loss of hope. Accepting the fact that it's done now. You've lost your chance of ever having that happy familiar relationship that you've always wished for but never got, and always deep down knew that you would never get. It's a sorry sort of sorrow tinged with relief. You no longer have to put that energy into hope. You're wholly free of it.

She spoke gently and asked the little girl if she wanted to help her with the water. Shyly, yet eagerly, the girl agreed. She knew better than to offer inflated sympathies or condolences. After everything the girl had been through, the last thing she needed was to question herself and her feelings. If anything, the little girl was struggling more with her lack of sadness over her father's passing than any sadness in the first place. What she needed was a chance to move on.

With Sophia's help, the work went quickly. Before long they had enough water sterilized to fill the RV's water tank. She would just have to wait for one of the men to come along to lift the heavy bin to fill it. She knew better than to attempt the feat with Sophia. She could imagine the look on Carol's face if she accidentally dumped scalding water all over her child.

She had caught several glimpses of Daryl over the course of the morning. He and a few of the men had been going around smashing in the skulls of the dead biters. He seemed rougher this morning than she remembered him, more aggressive, more vicious. She didn't know why she felt the need to avoid him. It didn't much matter though, there was so much activity going on at the camp that she scarcely had the time to consider the matter.

It was midmorning when Jacqui came to her. "Thanks for getting all that water. You think I could trouble you to bring some to Jim in the RV? He's been burning with fever since last night. I'd do it myself but I'm going to try and help Dale with Andrea. They're organizing some kind of funeral for Amy…and Ed."

Kristen glanced at the RV and attempted to shake off her fears regarding Jim. She remembered how shameful she felt over her own selfish worries and thought that it was the very least she could do. He was still alive and very human. It wasn't like he was a danger yet, despite the debate going around the group over what to do with him.

"Of course I can, Jacqui. Let me know if there is anything else."

She filled a bottle and a small bowl with water and climbed the steps to the RV. She felt guilty as she averted her eyes as she passed Andrea, felt guilty as she closed her ears to the heavy sound of the single shot, sending Amy into the next world. One that she could only hope was more peaceful than this. Kristen didn't even think that she believed in God. But she believed that an eternity of nothingness still had to be better than becoming one of those things.

Jim was propped up in the back of the RV, red in the face and sweating profusely. Though she had seen the man around camp, she wasn't overly familiar with him. She approached him gingerly, moreso not to startle him than out of any personal unease.

"Hey Jim, it's Kristen. Jacqui had some things to do so she sent me to check on you. I brought you some water. You okay?"

His eyes were glazed over, his speech slightly incoherent. "Pretty girl. You're the pretty girl with the pretty family. Glad they all made it. My pretty girls didn't make it. They…"

His voice trailed off. She tried to cut him off before he got himself anymore worked up. "Hey Jim, it's okay. Everything is going to be just fine. Here, let's get you some water. You'll feel much better after you have a bit of water." She tipped the bottle back to his lips and tilted it gently. Rather than swallowing, the water just ran down his chin. He coughed up a bit of blood violently and banged his arms.

The sudden gesture made her jump but she composed herself quickly. Soaking a rag in the bowl of water, she set to gently dabbing the slightly cooled water on his cheeks and forehead. It seemed to calm him a bit and his breathing evened out.

"Good, you're doing great Jim. Just relax." She continued on, as soothing as she could. So this was how it happened? They bit you and you just slowly wasted away until the infection overtook you. She felt sick to her stomach. Jim's head lulled from side to side. A few times he mumbled distractedly about things that she didn't understand. Something about a boat, a few things about his family. It wasn't fair. Why should Jim have to suffer like this now when he had already been through the unbearable pain of losing everyone. She was opening her mouth to say that she'd sit with him as long as he needed her when the RV door slammed open.

"What the fuck are you doin' in here with him?"

Before she could even process the interruption, Daryl made his way across the RV and had his hand around her forearm, roughly pulling her away from Jim. The action reminded her all too much of the overly possessive boyfriends that she had dumped in the past. Rage consumed her.

"Who the fuck do you think you are, talking to me like that? Get your hands off of me." Violently, she yanked her arm away from him. His brows shot up in confusion for a instant before furrowing as he glared at her. He opened his mouth as though to speak but apparently thought better of it as he stormed out of the RV. Kristen watched him leave, bewildered by the encounter.

She picked up the wet rag and turned back to Jim. "I think that fellow there was getting jealous of me," he slurred.

Daryl flew down the RV steps and headed back to his tent, ignoring anyone who called out for him. Chewing the side of his thumb, he kicked his pack on the ground in frustration. He had been looking out for her, trying to protect her and she looked at him like he was some kind of monster. What was she thinking being in there with Jim now that he was _infected._ Who knew when he was going to turn? He had half a mind to go find Jacqui and tell her to go deal with Jim but he knew that would only make Kristen angrier. He swore to himself as he began packing up his belongings. He was sure that it was only a matter of time before they were leaving. At this point, he wasn't even sure if he was going to bother going along.

"What the fuck was that?" He had been so distracted in his frustrations that he hadn't even heard her soft footsteps approaching. He tried to keep his angry expression but it turned sheepish.

"You shouldn't be in there with him alone. Nobody should. He's gonna be one of them before we know it."

"Yeah well, he's not one of them right now. He doesn't deserve to have to face this all alone. What would you have me do if you were the one that was bit?"

He looked at her severely. "If I was the one that was bit? If I was the one that was bit, I'd put a bullet in my own brain. Save you the trouble of havin' to decide what to do with me."

"Yeah?" Her anger slightly subsided, "And what would you do if I was the one that was bit?"

His expression softened. He looked at her and couldn't find the words. When he spoke his voice was gentle and so soft that it was almost a mumble. "You're not gonna get bit. Why do you think I got so mad? I'm not gonna let you."

She appeared to blink back a thought before speaking again. "Well, you should still apologize. You were really rough back there."

"If you thinkin' I'm too rough is what it's gonna take you keep you outta trouble, then I can't say that I give a damn."

She took a step closer, her voice serious. "No. I mean it. Nobody talks to me disrespectfully like that. I don't care if it's the apocalypse or not." Her voice took on a more playful inflection. She was finding it difficult to stay angry. "Besides, piss me off again and I'll have to kill you. And then you won't be around to keep me out of trouble anyways."

He grinned lazily at her, half out of relief that she wasn't still angry, and took a step forward, meeting her stride. He looked down on her in an act of playful menacing. "Yeah?"

She cleared her throat and swallowed. A pink blush crept to her cheeks. She was starting to feel flustered and she hated herself for it. She was accustomed to having the upper hand in encounters with males. But here she was, feeling dizzy because this almost stranger was standing too close. She felt a combative urge to step away from him and jump on top of him, all at the same time. Instead, she stood her ground and forcefully replied, "Yes."

He watched the way her lips formed the word, seemingly mesmerized for a number of seconds. He was sure that it was his turn to speak but his voice box had deactivated, his senses in overdrive. His protective urges came accompanied with certain other urges as well. He supposed he wasn't entirely immune to these times bringing up primitive gender roles. Looking at her right now, standing as close as she was, all he wanted was to pull her into his tent. Make her his. Fuck, he was sure that if she breathed deeply enough, her breasts would brush against his chest. He could feel his jeans tightening and knew he needed to halt his current thought process. Almost instinctively he reached out and lightly took her forearm in his hands. The one that he grabbed a bit too forcefully in the RV.

When he spoke, he hadn't meant for his voice to sound as tender as it did. "I didn't hurt ya, did I? I didn't mean to hurt ya." He turned her arm over gently, running his rough fingers over her soft skin. He was fairly certain that she'd get bruises from his fingertips. The thought filled him with shame.

He was so distracted with inspecting her skin and hating himself that he hardly noticed the way her eyes had glazed over. He looked at her for an answer but found her staring at him intently, her lips slightly parted. Not ceasing the movement of his fingers on her arm, he continued. "You just look like you'll bruise like a peach." He could hear the tiniest of sounds in the back of throat. She took a deep breath.

He had been right.

His eyes darkened with lust at the sensation. His grip on her arm tightened slightly and he had to restrain himself from pulling her nearer. Any closer and she'd be able to _feel_ physical proof of what she was doing to him, by not doing much of anything at all.

She spoke for the first time, clearing her throat. Her voice was lower and huskier than he had heard it before. "Maybe. I'm tougher than you'll give me credit for though." Her lips were still parted, her eyes glazed over but smiling.

The corners of his lips tugged at a grin. Tentatively, he ran his fingers down the length of her wrist, tracing her veins with his fingertips. He thought he felt her shiver at the sensation. Watching the expression on her face as he simply touched her arm was intoxicating. As mature as she was, he could feel his decade of experience over her. When she wasn't obsessing over looking after everyone, she seemed so young and soft. Emboldened, he moved his hand from her wrist to her waist. Her eyes widened nearly imperceptibly but she didn't move away from him.

Buried underneath his lust was something tender, something solid. He couldn't quite explain it. He didn't just want to bed her. He wanted to feed her and clothe her, protect her. And not only her, but her family. He wanted her to let him do those things. And the strangest aspect of all: he knew that if he had to choose only one of those things, he'd protect her above all else. It certainly wasn't love. He wasn't even sure if it could ever be anything of the sort. But it was something.

He opened his mouth to speak and was interrupted by a voice in the near distance calling to them.

_Fucking Dale. _He felt a sudden urge to violently throttle the man. Rip his fucking stupid hat to shreds.

He dropped his hand from Kristen's waist and almost immediately she seemed to regain her composure. She seemed embarrassed and bashful. Hardly meeting his eyes and not saying a word, she hurried over to Dale.

He followed closely behind, wondering what had happened.


	11. Chapter 11

**MIGHTIEST OF GUNS**

**CHAPTER ELEVEN**

_Author's Note: If any of my readers are fellow Bostonians, sending you all my love and well wishes. Xx_

Kristen wished she could grab her own shoulders and physically shake some sense into herself. What was she doing? A gruff smile and clear blue eyes was no excuse for letting herself become distracted. The fact that they were currently holding a memorial service was proof enough of that. She couldn't deny that she felt a small jolt of something when he took her arm though.

She violently shook her head, dispelling the sensation. She was thoroughly annoyed with herself. The worst of it was that the effect had been obvious to him. Right now, he was probably scoffing to himself smugly. Frightened girls were the easiest tail to get. She was always largely unsentimental when it came to the male sex. In the grand scheme of things, it never seemed important enough.

Sure, she had her base needs and desires. But she always had the upper hand in fulfilling them. Every so often she'd lose her grip on things and end up in the parking lot with a man. A few times she'd sneak one in the back door, hope that Liam wasn't waiting up for her. But the acts were always functionary. Sometimes she'd come, more than often she wouldn't. But it would quell the previous burning need for a while. She could again focus clearly on scheduling clinic appointments, scrounging up lunch money, juggling bills, working double shifts.

At the end of these encounters the men would always try and hold her, caress her hair, call her beautiful. She'd always remove herself from the bed, wrapping the sheet around her. Smile politely, thank them for a lovely evening, and tell them to be quiet on their way out. She didn't want them to wake the kids. "_Can I at least get your number?" "I would… but the phone is shut off more often than not."_

There was one time in her early twenties when she truly felt in love. He had been different than the others. Went away to university and everything. Told her she wasn't living up to her full potential, remaining at home. Told her he couldn't spend his time on someone with such a lack of ambition. She had cried for two days, calling out of work and barricading herself in her bed. Then she missed paying the cable bill. Val cried for a solid hour about missing a televised holiday special about Barbie. That was the end of 'fulfilling relationships' for her.

When Daryl had touched her, she felt a lack of control. She felt the mask of stoicism slipping. If it were just lust, she could almost deal with it. A quickie in a tent, a few stolen moments in the RV, then back to business. But the feeling had reminded her too much of being young and hopeful. The excitement and anticipation of the next word to be whispered, the next move to be made. Standing on the playground, hands clasped behind your back, timidly yet eagerly waiting for your first kiss. And just like a school girl shirking on her studies to stare at the back of a young man's head – she couldn't afford that kind of distraction. The fact that she was even having this conversation with herself was shameful. She needed to place some distance between herself and the remaining Dixon.

Which was why following the memorial service, she found it particularly ironic when she stumbled upon her two brothers and Daryl, engaged in heated discussion.

"Yeah, so we had one bad encounter with biters here. I understand that nobody wants to stay, but do they really think it's gonna be better someplace else?" Sean sat on the hood of the SUV, running his hand over his chin. Rubbing the beard that just stubbornly wouldn't grow.

"Well Officer Friendly seems to think it's the safest bet. Might be more people there, more supplies and shit." Daryl did his best to speak optimistically, but the idea of going to the CDC seemed at best like one built upon hopeful desperation.

"But if they are more people, isn't it likely that there are more infected?" Liam looked at them thoughtfully. Neither of the men had a solid answer.

When she had heard the plan to head to the Center for Disease Control, she wasn't sure how she felt. The idea of getting Val inside solid walls, with access to food and proper health care seemed too good to be true. And that was largely her opinion on the whole thing, _it was too good to be true._ She didn't see how the group could possibly remain at the quarry though. There were too many horrors and painful memories associated with the place. At the same time, if they were always fleeing from places with bad memories attached, then they would never stop moving about.

She had just decided to leave the men to their discussion and check on Val, who had been keeping Sophia company and Carol distracted, when Liam caught sight of her. He was always the first to notice. Daryl glanced at her before rubbing the back of his neck and apparently decided that it was a very important time to scan his eyes along the tree line.

Sean got right to the matter at hand. "If we're gonna go to this CDC thing then we need to get the SUV packed up tonight. Liam and I are gonna load the stove and everything in. We'll stay in the tent outside tonight and haul out early. We're going in a caravan."

Kristen was momentarily taken aback by his directness. A part of her wanted to smile at his being so forthright but a sisterly part of her was annoyed that he was seemingly making these decisions without asking her. But she had told him that his opinion was the most important thing to her regarding their survival. It was only fair that she place the same trust in them that they placed in her. Sean and Liam weren't children anymore.

"Do you think it's what we should do?" She looked at the elder of her brothers meaningfully.

"Yes." Sean answered with confidence, then seemed to shrink within himself a bit. The thought of being responsible for the safety of so many by making a single decision was a bit much for him. He suddenly felt a bit more respect for Rick and Shane. A bit sheepishly, he nodded his head towards Daryl. "Daryl thinks it's the only choice we have right now."

Her eyes widened in surprise for an instant. Days ago her brother couldn't even stand the sight of the man and now they were collaborating? Now he was consulting Daryl instead of her? Again, she felt a bit of the control slipping. It wasn't that she had an unquantifiable _need_ to be in control. She knew that joining the group, she'd relinquish some of the power she had over her own family's doings. If anything, sharing in all of this with others was a very positive thing. But it didn't stop fear and anxiety from gnawing at her insides. It was like the kids were leaving the nest. Only this time the living dead were grabbing at her baby birds.

"If you think that's the best option we have, then I'm on board. I'll make sure that Val is ready to go." She chanced a tiny look at Daryl and cringed inwardly as she felt a slight blush on her cheeks. Without saying a word to him, she headed off to find her sister.

Daryl Dixon never considered himself to be an authority on matters of the female sex but it was obvious, even to him, that Kristen's demeanor towards him was a stark contrast to earlier in the day. He could only imagine that by taking her hand he had crossed some kind of boundary that he shouldn't have. Maybe she was still just pissed about him yelling at her.

If she wanted to ignore him, then fine. He had more important things to do than worry that some little girl was unhappy with him. Regardless, he let out a frustrated '_for fuck's sake' _as he headed out into the woods for a final hunt in the quarry.

Kristen came upon Val and the other kids, playing quietly under the watchful eyes of Carol and Miranda. The two women were deep in a hushed conversation. Kristen approached them gingerly, not wanting to interfere, but it was obvious that it was no secret. Miranda and Morales were going to take their children and leave.

Despite her own reservations about the CDC plan, the revelation took Kristen by surprise. After everything they had experienced together in such a short amount of time, it was difficult for her to imagine the group going separate ways. A funny thought, considering how wary she had been of joining them in the first place.

She was going to miss having them around. They were by far, the happiest and most functional nuclear family that she had come across – not to mention within the group. (There was still something off about Rick and Lori that she couldn't put her finger on.) Her heart ached momentarily for Val. These times were hard enough without having to deal with a friend moving away. To Miranda, she mentioned the water that she had boiled for drinking, told her to take as much for the family as they needed.

She turned her gaze to Carol. She expected the older mother to be shaken or in transitionary mourning, but the woman seemed stronger, brighter than she had in the duration of their friendship. It was like Carol could finally breathe deeply. Funny how things happen.

"Krissy, what's a Seedy Sea?" Val posed the question so seriously that Kristen had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing.

"It's the C.D.C. hun. Center for Disease Control. They look for cures for diseases, try and stop sicknesses from spreading. We're gonna get some help from them."

"Are they gonna cure my asthma?" This time Kristen could stop herself from smiling at the way Val lisped the word 'asthma.' The smile quickly faded though when she remembered the ordeal that she and Liam had gone through to get Val's inhalers back.

Val had been sickly as a little one. Her birth weight had been below averagely low and she had a persistent cough as a toddler. She had her first asthma attack when she was about four. Kristen had panicked and took her to the emergency room. By the time they got there, the terrifying shortness of breath had subsided to a violent wheeze. The hospital staff told her that the case wasn't serious enough for them to treat, their Medicaid didn't cover enough. Kristen had shouted and cursed bloody murder in the waiting room until one of them admitted her baby sister.

Since then, Val's asthma was a manageable nuisance. She had always had to keep an extra close watch on her as she played outside. She couldn't run around too much, couldn't get herself too worked up. It broke Kristen's heart to shut the windows in the spring and not let the fresh air inside – but it wasn't worth the pollen triggering an attack.

It was a blessing that so far Val had been alright on their journey. Just one scary episode in the back of the old RV. Upon her first sighting of a biter, Val went crazy. It took ten minutes of medicine and soothing words to bring her breathing back to normal. They had enough of the medication to last them for the foreseeable future, but she was trying not to think about what they would do when it ran out. Perhaps irrationally, Kristen blamed Maura for Val's condition. Maybe if she hadn't smoked, maybe if she hadn't drank. Always cleaning up after Maura. She turned back to her little sister.

"They can't make that go away completely, I'm afraid. But you've been so good anyways. Hopefully what they can do is give you a good bath, stinky. In fact, tonight – we're going down to the stream and washing your hair."

Val wrinkled her nose at the thought. Kids never changed.

"You know, that's a good idea. I'm sure we could all use a bit of freshening up before we leave. We don't want to show up looking like savages." Carol ruffled Sophia's hair and smiled kindly at the little girl. "I'll mention it to Lori. I'm sure we can sat up bathing schedules for the boys and girls tonight."

Kristen looked up from the fold-up table to see Andrea walking to the RV. She had her arms crossed defensively and her head down. They made eye contact for an instant and Kristen thought to finally speak to her, but the look she was given suggested otherwise. She turned to her sister and smiled sadly.

As the day went on, Kristen made all of the final preparations for leaving the quarry. She couldn't say that she was really sorry to say goodbye to the place. "Home" felt less like a place and more like the people around you. For the first time, she was feeling that they had truly made the best decision by joining up with the group. Even if it brought about certain unnecessary distractions.

As though on cue, that certain distraction appeared from the woods with a few squirrels tied haphazardly around his belt. She looked from the dead rodents to his face. "When we get to the CDC, they're going to diagnose us all with the Bubonic Plague from eating so many rodents," she joked dryly.

"Yeah well, if you don't want any of 'em, then that's more for everybody else." His tone was short, his demeanor blunt. "I've been bustin' my ass this whole time catching food and all y'all wanna do is complain."

His attitude stung her for a moment before she regained composure. "I was joking. And if you recall, _I'm_ the one who skinned those nasty things for you the other day. So don't get on my case about disrespecting the kill."

He scoffed gruffly, "Yeah, I saw your work. You left nothing but bone and gristle. Wasted enough meat that could have fed at least two of us. Remind me not to ask you to help with that again."

She didn't understand it. Hours ago he had made her uneasy with his tenderness and now he was trying to get a rise out of her by being an asshole? Maybe she wasn't the only one who found herself conflicted and uncomfortable with their earlier encounter. The idea did nothing to quell her annoyance at him now, however.

"Well excuse me. We can't all grow up in backwoods society. You've probably been killing rats for fun for long as you can walk. It's barbaric." She knew her temper was getting the best of her but his words stung. She had worked really hard on those squirrels. She had been proud of the job.

"Yeah? You think I'm barbaric? Because you're from up North ya think y'all better than me? We might have been poor but at least my mama wasn't doped up, pushin' out more kids than she ever wanted."

The words hit her like a slap. She faced a strong inclination to hit him but instead felt her hands fall limp at her sides. She gave him a tight-lipped smile. "Yep. That's us, I guess." She looked at him rather emptily, more sad than angry – turned and left him with his squirrels.

The way he had made her feel before must have been a fluke. Maybe she had been hungry. Too many hours spent in the sun.

_Goddammit Dixon._ The second the words had left his mouth he regretted them. He hadn't meant a word, he was just trying to wound her back in any way he could. And since he couldn't find one significant deficit in her, he had to grasp at straws to insult her. And unfortunately the one he grasped had worked better than he thought.

He didn't know why he said it. It's not like he thought badly of her for it. It's not like he was one to talk. She could just make him feel so goddamn inferior without even trying.

He thought of the way she had looked at him earlier. The way her eyes clouded over and her breath went shallow when he had held her hand. Of course he would ruin something good before it even began. Drive her away before she decided to drop him of her own volition.

He hadn't succeeded in scaring off all of the McCoy women however, as he discovered later on when Val shyly approached him at the camp. He had been working on Merle's bike. He was toying with the idea of ditching the truck and just taking the bike. It would mean more gas to go around, but also less possible transportation. Gas seemed easier to come by than working unoccupied vehicles.

"Whatcha doin'?" The little girl smiled timidly, tilting her head from side to side.

"Uh, workin' on my bike." He wiped a spot of grease off of his forehead and wiped his hands on his jeans.

"Can I sit on it?" Val's eyes lit up eagerly. The motorcycle must have seemed like the biggest Hotwheels she'd ever seen.

"Guess so." He stood up and gently lifted the little girl onto the seat of the bike. Kept a hand hovering protectively behind her back in case she started to fall. He expression was part worried grimace, part grin.

Val laughed to herself, looking down at the large bike. She gestured to the 'SS' insignia that stupid skinhead Merle had detailed on the bike. "What's that mean?"

Daryl grumbled to himself for a minute, trying to find the words. "It's for Sesame Street."

"Valentina, come on! You've been hiding long enough. It's time for a bath." Kristen emerged from the clearing of the camp, her arms crossed and expression serious. Upon seeing Val completely enveloped by the bike, Daryl hovering rather helplessly and anxiously behind her, she couldn't help but smile.

"Krissy come see! I'm on the bike!"

"I can see that babe. He teach you how to hold a gun too?" Her tone was playful but the look she gave him was anything but. He could tell that she was annoyed at him still for before and not about the motorcycle. "If only we had a camera. Come on, Carol and Sophia are waiting with Lori. After you're clean, I promise I'll read to you for a bit."

"Three chapters?"

"Two."

"Three."

"Two and I promise I'll do all the voices, okay? Now get going." Val looked up expectantly at Daryl. Gently he lifted her from the bike and lightly set her back on the ground. Kristen nodded approvingly as she ran off toward Carol.

"Sorry if she was bothering you." Her inflection was polite but formally cold.

"Nah, she's a cool kid."

"Well, thanks for being nice to her." Kristen turned to leave –

"Wait. Look, about before. I'm sorry for what I said. I was just bein' a dick. Hell, my folks were both drunks too. I didn't have any right and I don't have any right and –"

"Hey, it's okay. I'm sorry too." She gave him a small smile. "Still think you're a barbarian though."

He was so relieved that she wasn't angry at him anymore that he couldn't help but joke. "Think I'm a savage? You have no idea, sweetheart."

She snorted a laugh but her cheeks still flushed slightly. He grinned at the sight. She always seemed so on point, poised with a witty retort or a sharp statement. Anytime that he was able to make her go shy, he considered it a victory. It was a privilege to watch her squirm.

"Ya know, they're gonna be all washed up by the time you get over there. Unless you're waitin' till ya can have the stream to yourself. In which case then, I better come with you. Ya know, protection." He grinned suggestively at her, raising his eyebrows playfully.

She laughed. "Oh my god, stop it. You're just trying to make me uncomfortable now."

"Is it workin'?"

She looked him straight on, a mischievous glint in her eye. "No. Not at all. You'll have to try harder than that." She turned and went after the girls.

So maybe she wasn't as bashful as he had thought. Grinning to himself, he wiped the sweat from his hands and went back to the bike.


	12. Chapter 12

**MIGHTIEST OF GUNS**

**CHAPTER TWELVE**

_Author's Note: The lengthy delays in between chapters are now OVER. This college student just finished her last final exam and is officially on summer vacation. Thank you so much to those of you who have waited patiently and reviewed/favorited/followed. It's always such wonderful encouragement to continue on with this lil story. Love to you all! Xx_

Kristen, Lori, and Carol sat on the river's bank and watched as Sophia and Val splashed along in the water. They spoke in hushed tones and continually found themselves scanning the treeline for any sign of danger. Despite arranging for privacy to bathe, they knew that the men weren't too far off. They were glad for it. It was difficult to characterize their moods. Though slightly hopeful for the CDC, they had experienced so much grief in the past few days – the hope was tinged with unease and fear. It was a hope bred from desperation.

Sat between the two women, Kristen could almost feel their contradicting emotions radiating from their bodies. Carol had just lost a husband, had seemingly gained a newfound freedom. Lori had just rediscovered her husband, had seemingly lost something else – gained a whole new set of problems. It was obvious to anyone in the small camp that something had been going on between Shane and Lori. Now that Rick was back, it seemed even more painfully apparent. Kristen didn't fault her at all though. She was acting in the manner that she thought was best for the safety of herself and her son. People form attachments out of self-preservation.

Thinking of Daryl, Kristen wondered if she was simply doing the same. She knew that couldn't be wholly true though. Besides, she couldn't exactly define their attachment. Sure, she had benefitted from his presence. He had helped protect and provide, had willingly shared in the load of her responsibility. But why? It was simply as though they had been thrown together and he had just never gotten around to leaving.

The way things were now, human relations seemed to be caught in overdrive. Like the older you get, the faster time goes by. The more dire the situation, the easier that people will find themselves bound to one another. Hardly any time had passed since their first altercation over gasoline. And now here they were – him protecting her family, picking fights with her, flirting shamelessly with her.

She gently kicked her feet in the water, felt the slight current pushing against her shins.

She was so conflicted about her growing attachment to the people around her. She was so frightened that they would prove to be a distraction to the wellbeing of her family. She was starting to think that perhaps the only distraction was her own resistance. Maybe she just needed to float along in the current of the inevitable.

Derailing her train of thought, Lori turned towards her and asked, "Isn't it weird? Do you ever wonder what celebrities must be doing right now? Like how do you think Meryl Streep is doing with all this?"

Kristen smirked at the thought but Carol spoke up softly, "I wonder more about how my friends and family are doing."

Funny, Kristen thought. That was the last thing she tried to think of.

By the time the women finished washing, the sun had set and everyone was putting the finishing touches on packing for their departure. Kristen made a stop by the RV to check on the state of Jim. He had not experienced any improvements. Kristen tried to smile reassuringly but his face was clouded, he gazed right through her.

His expression was helpless, almost childlike. The way that Maura would gaze up at her, in the throes of a bad high. When she would be strung out and frightened and Kristen would stroke her hair, in a small voice try and make everything okay. When she thought of her mother like that, it made the addiction seem more like an affliction, a disease. But after so many years, you could no longer separate the person from their demons. Through the neglect, the ignored bills, the strange men, and the inconvenience of it all – it wasn't addiction that she saw and blamed, it was her mother.

She considered staying in the RV with Jacqui. The burden of looking after Jim had somehow fallen on her shoulders. Perhaps it was simply because neither of them had any more family. But Jim didn't deserve to be alone in the burden of his condition anymore than Jacqui did. To sit alone and watch someone deteriorate was only a close second to experiencing it yourself.

But then she thought of Daryl, of his reaction to her close proximity to Jim. He had been overzealous and out of line. His good intentions tainted with a hot temper and a proclivity for roughness. But when he grabbed her arm and shouted at her, she felt no sense of fear or unease. She had simply felt annoyed.

Her biggest gripe in her relationships was that the men never challenged her enough. They drank in her one-track work ethic, her self assurance and sufficiency, her independence. They accepted these things as truth and backed off, gave her space and solitude. And for the most part, she was happy for it. It was essentially what she had asked of them. But somewhere deep inside, she wanted them to rebel against it. To invade her mind and say, 'Relax. I'm here.' To take the reigns from her hands once and while and let her simply enjoy the view. She felt like she could never truly be 'put in her place.' She doubted that there was even a 'place' to put her. But sometimes, sometimes – she wanted them to try anyways.

She had Carol tuck Val safely in her car with Sophia and brewed two cups of tea for herself and Jacqui. If anyone had a problem with her staying the night in the RV, they could confront her about it in the morning.

X

Daryl threw his few belongings into his pack, wiped clean his knives and bolts and did some brief maintenance on his bow. He looked a bit like a child packing up his bookbag before the first day of school.

He finally took the opportunity to go through Merle's abandoned belongings. He had initially had the intention of disposing of some of the things that he knew he would never use. But something stopped him. He could so clearly imagine Merle coming back and being pissed if any of his shit was missing. When he came upon some of Merle's stash, he considered dumping it. Felt as though he probably should, but again – something stopped him. Besides serving as some powerful painkillers, he didn't know how useful it would be medicinally. But if he was going down with a fight and the end was near, it couldn't hurt to go out with a little added kick to his system. In the end, he just tossed everything of Merle's in the back of his pickup.

He rummaged through the firearms. He could admit that he may have been a bit greedy when it came to it. With the exception of Officer Friendly and Office Not-So-Friendly though, he knew that the others at camp would be largely shit with shooting. Why shouldn't he take more than his fair share then? He pulled out three pieces, a standard Remington and two smaller sidearms. He'd give the Remington to Liam and the two compact pistols to Kristen and Carol. He didn't think of Lori, figured she had two officers now looking out for her.

He grabbed the rifle and a small box of ammo cartridges and headed across camp to find Sean and Liam. The two young men were sat outside the SUV, their sleeping bags laid out under a small canvas tent. They both nodded in acknowledgement at Daryl as he approached. Even if things were kind of up and down with Kristen at the moment, at least her brothers had stopped hating him.

Instinctively, he peered inside the windows of the SUV and was surprised to see it empty. Gesturing to the car, he furrowed his brow. "Where are ya sisters at?"

"Val's staying in the Peletier's car tonight. Kristen's in the RV sharing shifts with Jacqui to look after Jim. From what she said, sounds like the poor guy might not even make it to the CDC."

Daryl's eyes flashed for a split second. He knew he needed to back off in terms of being overbearing, but it didn't mean that he had to be happy about it. Instead, he posed his unease in the form of a question. "And y'all are okay with your sister being so close to that infected?"

Sean snorted at the question. "Doesn't really matter if we're okay with it or not. Once she gets it in her head to do something, she does it. We just have to sit back and hope she's right about it."

"Yeah, well. This ain't about being right or wrong. We still don't know enough about those poor son of a bitches to know how long it takes them to turn. Jim may not be dead yet, but he's sure as hell sick. It ain't gonna do a shit of good, goin' to the CDC, if we wake up and find your sister as one of those poxy bastards."

"Jacqui has been with him all this time and she's been fine."

Sean turned to his brother and smirked. "Well, Daryl here isn't trying to commiserate with her family, now is he?"

Daryl could feel the back of his neck burning. A bit more gruffly, he spoke up. "I nabbed you guys some weapons in the second Atlanta raid." He passed the Remington over to Liam. "It might be a bit big still for you now, but you'll get used to it. Figured you should have it tomorrow when we move out. We'll practice shootin' when we get settled in. Hopefully, we won't even need them though if this CDC works out."

Liam's eyes lit up as he took the rifle. He ran his hands over the smooth finish, his fingers ghosting over the barrel and the trigger. Even Sean seemed uncharacteristically moved by the gesture. When he next spoke, his tone was meaningful. "Thanks. We really appreciate it. Everything, I mean."

"Yeah, don't mention it." The moment was getting a bit too sentimental for the younger Dixon. Sarcastically he added, "My old man never played catch with me neither."

X

Kristen awoke at first light with a horrible crick in her neck. After her shift with Jim, she had fallen asleep seated upright on the dining bench. She went to the back to check on Jacqui and Jim and was shocked to find Andrea, absentmindedly stroking Jim's head. Kristen swallowed back her surprise and offered up a gentle hello.

Andrea just smiled back at her, a tight lipped and strained expression. One that offered understanding but requested to be left in peace. Kristen nodded silently and quietly padded across and out of the RV, careful to not rouse a sleeping Jim.

Carol already had the girls up and about, feeding them oats and assuring that everything possible was safely packed away. Kristen gave Val a quick kiss on top of the head and helped her brothers pack up their small camp into the SUV.

She took one look at the rifle casually slung across Liam's back and knew that it had to be from Daryl. A year ago, if someone had told her that she would be pleased to see such a weapon in the hands of her 16 year old brother, she would have laughed in their face. But now the sight of it did nothing but quell her fears slightly. She quickly ate a bowl of oats in hot water and set off to thank the hunter.

She found him loading Merle's motorcycle in the back of the pickup. She had wondered what he was going to do with the vehicles. The bike was certainly faster, but the truck provided a good deal more shelter and support. She found herself feeling strangely relieved that he had decided to bring both. The thought of him in the dark and exposed on the motorcycle made her deeply uneasy.

"Liam loves his new gun. He looks like he's never going to put it down. Don't know if I should say 'thank you' or 'how could you?'" She leaned against the siding of the pickup, as he gave one last push and loaded the bike.

He shut the back latch of the truck and caught him breath, wiping any residual grease on his jeans. "It's not a bad piece for a kid his size. My first real gun was pretty similar. He'll get used to it."

"I'm not worried about him getting used to it. I just don't think I ever will. Carol told me you got a pistol for her too. It was good of you to think of us."

"So now you're here, wonderin' where yours is? You thinkin' I forgot about ya?" He looked up at her and grinned as he rummaged through the bed of the truck.

Kristen smiled but a blush crept to her cheeks. She hated to admit it, but she had kind of wondered if everyone was to get a firearm except her. "I just assumed you thought I was so ferocious with a bat that I wouldn't even need a gun."

He reemerged from the truck, his playful expression turned serious. He pressed the compact pistol into her hands. "Like hell I forgot about you, girly."

She turned the weapon over in her hands, inspecting it. She didn't like the way it felt, unnatural – like she holding something that she knew she had no business to.

As though reading her thoughts, he spoke up. "You're going to have to get over the way you feel about it. You don't have a choice anymore. If you want those kids to be safe, which obviously you do – you have to be able to protect them. You have to be able to protect yourself."

She nodded, opened her mouth to speak, but he continued. "I mean it. We're gonna get you shooting. Liam told me how poor a shot you were. I can't be having that."

"But if things work out at the CDC, maybe we won't even need these anymore." She knew the instant that the words left her mouth that she didn't even believe them.

"Yeah, well. I ain't gonna get my hopes up about that. For all we know, there isn't even a CDC anymore. Seems kind of like we're graspin' at straws, if ya ask me."

"What do you think we should be doing?" The question threw him off guard for a moment. Aside from the McCoys, nobody in the camp seemed to be interested in what he had to say about their plans. For a few dark, selfish seconds – his mind ran through a number of scenarios. A number of them involved pulling Kristen into his pickup truck and taking off. True, there was safety in numbers. But it was a hell of a lot easier to squeeze two people through a tight spot than twelve. He knew that she would hate him if she knew that the thought had even crossed him mind, though.

He ran a rough hand down his face, wiping away the vision. "Doesn't matter what I think. What I _know_ though is that you need to get used to that gun. That you need to be more careful around those infected." He drew the last sentence out meaningful.

"So you know, I spent the night in the RV with Jim." It wasn't posed as a question, the tiniest hint of mischief in her eyes. If Daryl didn't know any better, he would have thought that she was trying to get another rise out of him.

"You're a grown ass woman. If you're gonna spend your time pettin' rabid dogs, it ain't nothing to do with me." He kept his voice even, but the annoyance was plain on his face.

A grin tugged at the corners of her lips. "Come on, admit it. You're just being a hardass now. You were worried about me a little bit." Playfully she reached across and poked him in the ribs. She wasn't going to think about how life had evolved to the point where flirtations now revolved around the volatility of men turning into the living dead. She wasn't going to think about the fact that she was even flirting in the first place.

He felt his chest jump into his throat. _Was she being flirtatious?_ He wanted to laugh and join her but irritation still pulled at the edges of his mind. If her staying in the RV, putting herself in potential danger, was some elaborate girl's game to get his attention, he would quite literally kill her. He should have known better though.

When he spoke, his voice was rougher than he probably meant it to be. "You don't need to do something stupid for me to worry about you. You don't need to do anything for that."

She reached across to him, but this time rather than poke, she gently rested her hand along his ribs. Rising to her toes, she laid a quick kiss on his cheek. "You're a good man, Daryl Dixon. Drive safe."

His chest and face burned where she had touched him.

X

The drive had been uneventful enough. Shane had given everyone directions and instructions on the best way to stay within the caravan. Kristen felt more confident driving through the unfamiliar state, knowing that she had several cars to simply follow. When the RV conked out, she couldn't say that she felt surprised. Things seemed to be going too easily for the group.

Kristen had hoped that Val would be willing to sit in the SUV with her books, but the little girl was already restless. She had grown accustomed to being outside and among other people from the camp. The unfamiliar stretch of road made Kristen a bit uneasy about the level of safety, but she gave in and allowed the girl to play outside while they waited for the RV to be fixed.

She sat on the hood of the car with her youngest brother and carefully watched over Val and Carl. Though oftentimes quiet, right now Liam seemed troubled. His rifle still lay at his side. She followed the line of his gaze to the RV.

"I heard Dale say that they're going to leave Jim behind. That it's what he wants for himself."

The news came as no great shock to Kristen. She draped her arm around her brother's shoulder and squeezed his upper arm. "It'll be okay, kid."

Subconsciously, his hand hovered over the weapon at his side. His eyes darting around the perimeter of the caravan. The past few weeks had seen tremendous change in her brothers. Liam had always been observant, mentally a step ahead of those around him. But now, that ability was being channeled into an almost predatory sense. As though he were an animal and the only desired prey were biters. He may still be lacking in the physical strength and skill, but his instincts and sense of awareness were becoming troublingly well honed.

She glanced over to the location of Daryl and his pickup. He was taking the opportunity to check the oil and the air in his tires. "Why don't you see if you can ride the rest of the way with Daryl? Maybe he can tell you a bit more about your new gun." Liam seemed hesitant for a moment but he slid off the hood of the SUV and made his way to the pickup.

At first Daryl was perplexed by the appearance of the younger McCoy. He raised his eyes to the direction of the SUV and caught Kristen's gaze. She offered him a small smile. He moved to the side and made room for Liam to join him in looking under the hood of the pickup.

He hated to admit that he kind of liked having the kid around for the rest of the ride. In all of his encounters with the McCoy men, Liam had always been a bit overshadowed by his more boisterous older brother. It was something that Daryl could more than relate to. The kid wasn't really much for making conversation, but that suited Daryl just fine.

Daryl was glad that they hadn't lingered when it came to leaving Jim behind. He gained a level of respect for the men in asking to be left though. Jim had been a burden on the safety of the group. Daryl had even had the foresight to offer some of Merle's painkillers to make Jim's remaining moments easier. He was glad that he hadn't just dumped them.

"My sister must like you." Liam's voice from the passenger seat took Daryl back from his thoughts. He took his eyes off of the road and looked over at the young man, his brows furrowed. Daryl wasn't sure what to say and was glad when Liam continued. "She's weird sometimes. Really suspicious of people, you know? She must think that you're somebody we can trust."

"And what do you think?"

Liam's smile mirrored Sean's from the night before. "It doesn't really matter what I think." In a quieter voice he added, "But for the record, I think you are."

X

Even from the rear end of the caravan, Kristen could tell that something was amiss when the cars all came to an abrupt stop. She was just able to make out the silhouette of a large building and she was confused as to why they didn't drive up closer. She pulled over and put the SUV into park.

Opening the door, it was instantly obvious what the issue was. The stench of rotting bodies was unmistakable. Sean climbed out of the passenger seat and as Val reached for the door, he held up a hand to stop her. "One second, Val."

Kristen and Sean jogged up to the front of the caravan where Rick and Shane were debating in low tones. She was beginning to doubt that this had been a good idea to begin with.

Shane was clearly frustrated, his voice holding a distinct 'told you so' tone to it. "We don't know how many of those bodies are really dead. We don't even know why or how they died. I knew coming here was going to be nothing more than a death trap."

Rick's face was pale with stress but his voice was calm. "You're right, Shane. We don't know. But we didn't know what was going to happen back at the quarry either. We're already here and the building is so close. We can't turn back now."

It was decided that they would continue on foot.

Walking back to the SUV, Kristen cursed to herself. Walking her baby sister through a yard littered with corpses wasn't on her list of 'must do' activities. Leaning in the SUV, she grabbed her backpack, quickly double checked that it had all the necessities, Val's medicine. Zippering it up, she let out a frustrated 'for fuck's sake.'

Val looked up at her sister, wide-eyed. "Pretend you didn't hear that, Valley. Grab your things, we're gonna walk."

She took her sister's hand and gently led her to the front of the caravan where the camp members had gathered. Val's eyes grew to the size of saucers at the sight of all the bodies, the blood draining from her face. Kristen heard her breathe in a distinct wheeze and feared for the worst. She took Val's pack and her own, tossed them over to Liam.

"Come on toots, climb on." She crouched down enough to let her sister hop on her back, piggyback style. Val wrapped her small arms around her sister's neck, tightened her legs at her sister's sides. "Remember at the beach? When the sand was too hot and I had to carry you because you left your shoes in the car? Just close your eyes and pretend we're there again, okay?" She was grateful that her sister was small for an eight year old.

They all walked gingerly across the yard. Their natural instincts were to rush, but the risk of attracting attention to themselves seemed too real. The unease and uncertainty about the state of the corpses surrounding them made them hesitant. Kristen adjusted the weight of her sister on her back, chewed the inside of her mouth, and carefully stepped over the bodies.

Things only seemed to get more hopeless, the closer they got to the CDC itself. The building appeared to be abandoned. Kristen started to think that they were just going to turn around and head back to the cars when they were spotted. A number of biters now separated them from the relative safety of their mobile caravan. Kristen heard several swears amongst the group as everyone desperately rushed towards the CDC. Running with Val on her back was more difficult than she had expected it to be. She started wishing that she had been more diligent with her morning press-ups. She considered putting her sister down, but she knew that Val's little legs wouldn't carry her any faster anyways.

She looked up to see Daryl turning around, running back over to them. Without a word he grabbed her little sister, gently tossed her over his shoulder, fireman style. He grabbed Kristen's hand and forcefully ran with them to the hopeful shelter of the looming CDC. He didn't have any trouble running and carrying the child at the same time.

The relief of reaching the CDC was short-lived. Desperately they pounded and pried at the shuttered up windows and doors. With every passing second, the approaching horde grew closer and closer. Daryl and her brothers were poised with their weapons. Ready for the biters to get close enough for what was surely going to be a lost-cause of a fight.

Rick seemed crazed with desperation and possibly a hint of guilt. He felt responsible for leading these people here and couldn't bear the thought that he had lead them to their demise.

Val wrapped her arms around her sister's legs. Kristen bent down and lifted her sister for the second time. This time to comfort, not to carry. The little girl's body heaved with sobs. Kristen just ran a hand through her sister's dark hair. Allowed the little girl to cry.

Finally, with one last desperate plea from Rick – the doors began to creak open. Bathed in the sudden light, Kristen could hardly see where they were going. But it didn't matter. They were in.


	13. Chapter 13

**MIGHTIEST OF GUNS**

**CHAPTER THIRTEEN**

_AUTHORS NOTE: Reviews = MORE CHAPTERS. So sorry for the delays this summer. Turned out being a lot busier than I imagined. Most notably I got engaged! __FYI – this chapter contains lots of sex. Maybe some of you will forgive me then for the wait! Thanks so much again for your reviews and feedback. Love you all! xx_

She tilted the glass to her lips, indulged in a long swallow. The wine slid down her throat, warming her from the inside out. The familiar and comforting sensation began to build in her toes and work its way upward. She took another gulp and let out a satisfied hum to herself. Sitting here, drinking with these former strangers was surreal enough. The fact that mere hours before, she thought they had all been doomed made it even more so.

Their new sanctuary had not been what she had expected. She had imagined (and perhaps hoped) for a hospital setting. Something designed to house and heal their staggered group of survivors. What they had found though, was more laboratory than hospice. Clinical and cold, she wondered how well anyone could thrive under the fluorescent lighting, the meticulously pumped air. She wondered where she had the gall to question what had become their saving grace.

She didn't yet know what to make of Dr. Jenner. He had been aloof in a way that made her deeply uneasy, made her want to pull Val closer. She didn't think he was necessarily a danger – he just gave her the distinct sense that there was something he was keeping to himself. And while she was never one to pry, she couldn't help but think that whatever it was – it was going to affect them all gravely.

Sophia and Carl had shuddered when Jenner drew blood samples for his tests. Val had simply stood still and held out her arm to the man. Kristen felt an odd mix of pride tinged with sorrow at how brave her little sister had grown. The medical exams and the doctor's cryptic demeanor were stark reminders that even though they had made it inside, they were not wholly free of the horrors of the day.

As Jenner drew blood from her own arm, Kristen's vision temporarily lost focus – the room began to spin. She was suddenly painfully aware of how malnourished she had grown over the last few days. She rested her hand on the doctor's forearm to steady herself. He momentarily flinched as though afraid she were lunging towards him with some diseased limb.

His eyes narrowed and grimacing he opened his mouth to speak, before promptly being interrupted by Daryl.

"The girl ain't sick, she's fuckin' hungry. How do ya think she's gonna be, drawin' blood when she hasn't eaten in days?" There was an annoyance in his tone as though he were indignant that the doctor could even think that Kristen had been infected by walkers.

The doctor softened ever so slightly. Warily, he extended his hospitality. The gesture did little to quell their unease. But for now, there was food (albeit tinned), clean showers (albeit timed ones), and drink (luckily bountiful.) And regardless of whatever fears she was currently harboring, Kristen couldn't remember the last time she felt this relaxed.

Smiling to herself, she tilted her glass towards Shane and received a much-needed refill. Perhaps it was just the alcohol, but the group seemed to be in high spirits. Lori seemed to unwind a bit and even Andrea seemed slightly brighter.

Her own brothers were certainly in a good mood. When Lori had started to protest as Liam poured some bourbon into his soft drink, it was Daryl who spoke up for the boy.

"The kids been smashin' in skulls, he can handle a fuckin' drink." The sentiment though true, left a gnawing sensation in the pit of Kristen's stomach. It passed though as Sean nudged her, grinning.

"You don't have to worry about Li handling his booze. The kid here's had an iron stomach since he was about 12, right Kris?" It was obvious that Sean felt a perverse pride about it, but Kristen involuntarily cringed under the judgmental eyes of Lori and Carol.

She could remember one night in particular where she came home from work to find Liam and some of his friends smashed on a bottle of limoncello that they had lifted from the packie. One of them had vomited all over their kitchen table. She spent hours trying to mask the stench with Lemon Pledge. After that, she just started leaving beer in the house. If she couldn't stop him, she'd rather him at least not steal it. And at least drink something that his friends wouldn't vomit back up.

Taking a generous sip of her wine, she glanced over towards the other women and simply shrugged.

As the night wore on, people slowly started drifting off to their sleeping quarters. As Carol was getting ready to go off to bed, she offered to let Val stay with Sophia. The young girls jumped at the chance to have a slumber party that didn't involve sleeping in a car. Kristen's heart skipped a small beat at the thought of having a night's sleep without being kicked by little legs.

Before long, the 'young folks' were all that remained at the table. And it was obvious that nobody really had any intention of quitting drinking.

As Kristen reached to uncork another bottle of wine, through reddened cheeks Glen laughed, "Oh ho ho, another one?"

She laughed, her lips stained burgundy from drink. Slowly pouring so not to slosh, she replied. "Glen, Glen, Glen. Wine doesn't count as drinking." Despite herself, her words were beginning to slur.

"You sure about that girly? Because it looks to me like you've been drinkin'." She could suddenly feel Daryl's gaze on her, his eyes glassy. A part of her had been ignoring him at dinner. It felt kind of strange to acknowledge him in public. Not that she was ashamed of him or their friendship. It just felt as though if other people could see what was between them, it would suddenly make it real. Suddenly make it more than she could currently handle.

At the moment though, the wine made her forget this. Looking up at him defiantly, she narrowed her eyes and grinned. "You don't know what you're talking about, Mr. Dixon. Even Jesus drank wine, you know?" As though to prove her point, she took a long sip.

There was an almost imperceptible shift in his eyes, "Oh yeah? Well sweetheart, I'm thinkin' that you're no JC."

She tried to think of a dry retort but found herself tongued tied, her cheeks going crimson. She just hoped that everyone would chalk it up to the wine.

She renewed her efforts in trying to ignore the young hunter. Found herself in an impromptu drinking contest with her oldest brother and Glen. Daryl just watched on, nursing his whiskey. He seemed to think that drinking was too important an act to waste on silly games.

Glen was the first to go. He had put in a fair effort but ended up slumped over in his seat like a freshman frat boy. T-Dog gallantly wrapped an arm around him and carted him off to bed. Kristen was left eye to eye with Sean, two shots of Jim Beam between them.

"You know you can't out drink me, Sis. Doesn't matter if you've got more years. I've got more _mass._" To demonstrate, he reached forward and pumped his chest like an ape.

Stubbornly, she grabbed the glass and put it to her lips. "What's mass compared to strength of character?" By this point her words were slow and mumbled. She could hear Daryl chuckling. Parting her lips, she swallowed the bitter liquid. It burned her throat in a way much less pleasant than the wine. Her eyes teared as she cleared her throat to keep down a deep cough. Taking a deep breath, she slammed the glass down on the table with a flourish.

Sean raised an eyebrow at her as he lifted his glass and drank the shot as easily as though it were water. Her nose wrinkled in annoyance. "Fine. Another one." She reached for the bottle as her hand was halted by Daryl.

"I think you're good now."

Her eyes shot to him incredulously. She could hardly believe that he of all people (halfway through a bottle of Southern Comfort on his own) was trying to curb her celebrating. Rather than respond, she rose up from her seat and reached across the table. Taking his own bottle from his lips, she took a long swig. Clenching her jaw, she ignored the taste of bitterness and silently handed the bottle back to him.

She was so pleased with herself for her cleverness and spunk that she hardly realized the effects of the bourbon. As she went to retake her seat, she stumbled back and grabbed the table's edge, barely breaking her fall. For a second, she thought Daryl would have been annoyed, but he couldn't seem to stop himself from laughing at her. Despite her blushing, she had to laugh a bit as well.

The good humor was interrupted though by a sudden groan from Liam at the far end of the table. The younger boy had certainly been enjoying himself and despite his 'iron stomach,' it was obviously time for him to get to sleep. Hopping down his perch on the table, Sean went to his brother. "Okay man, looks like it's time to get you upstairs. You good?" Liam nodded listlessly.

"Make sure you bring water up with you!." Kristen's eyes, though glazed over, still held a look of concern. Sean simply waved her away. At the moment, they were too drunk to care for how they'd feel tomorrow.

Kristen watched her brothers leave and suddenly felt too aware of the fact that she was now alone with Daryl. He took a measured sip of his drink, but refrained from looking up at her. Without a drink, she felt weirdly naked – like she couldn't sit here with him unless she had a clear purpose. She gestured to the bottle and this time he poured her a drink. Clearly, his similar sense of awkwardness outweighed his concern for her liver.

Secretly, she wished for a chaser but was thankful for the warm comforting liquid. Her voice sounded hoarse when she next spoke. "You know, the first cocktail they made with Southern Comfort came out with 'Gone With the Wind.' It was called the Scarlett O'Hara."

"You a big fan or somethin'?"

"No, just bartended a lot. Well used to, I guess."

"Ya miss it?"

"Sometimes. Being around drunk people gets kind of depressing after a while, you know?"

He nodded slowly, his voice getting gruffer. "I used ta mix whiskey sours for my ma when I was a kid. I'd bring 'em to her in her lazy boy. If it wasn't right, she'd send me back to fix it."

She studied him curiously. It was the first time that she had heard him say anything about his past. She was hesitant to speak, as though he was a skittish colt and she didn't want to send him running. "It's weird, isn't it? That like everyone doesn't grow up doing that stuff. My mama used to have me run down the block to 'buy sugar' from the neighbors. When I got older and understood, she laughed about it - how clever she was to use her little girl to pick up her crystal. _Nobody would suspect you._ And then nowadays, I don't even let Val near lit candles." She cringed and continued, "Sorry. I didn't mean to get into like a sob story one-up contest."

"They're lucky to have you, ya know." There was something so sincere in his expression; she had to look down at her drink.

"No. We're lucky to have each other. I've fucked up so many times with those kids. I think the reason I'm so protective of Val is because a part of me feels like she's my last chance to do it right. I so badly wanted her to get out of the neighborhood. Sean and Liam got beat down too many times. I was still too young and stupid to give them enough. I…" She suddenly realized how impassioned her voice was growing, how intently he was listening. "I am talking an awful lot."

Daryl opened his mouth to speak, but it seemed that the words wouldn't come. Finally he just gestured around the kitchen and raised his bottle. "As least you made it out of the neighborhood."

She couldn't help but scoff dryly. Taking a sip, she agreed.

They fell into silence again. Many times throughout their friendship they found themselves not speaking – it was hard not to when Daryl seemed to be so naturally reserved. However, where those silences felt comfortable and companionable, this one felt charged. She didn't much want to drink anymore, but she felt it was her only excuse to sit and stay with him. The thought of a horrible hangover the next day was easier to deal with than the thought of trying to admit anything to herself. Unsure of what to do or say, she drained her glass and reached for the bottle yet again.

But this time, he seemed to have made up his mind that she had had enough. Chuckling, he put the bottle to his lips before moving it just out of her reach. "Uh uh, I'm cuttin' you off."

She felt her face go warm, a slight excitement building inside her. "I thought that was my job. I'm the one here who's a professional here."

He grinned. "Yeah well, I'm taking my greater age and size as a means of authority."

"And you think that you could just stop me that easily? Have a bit more respect for me than that, Dixon."

"'Kay then girl, come and get it." He smirked mischievously and placed the bottle to his far left, just out of reach from her side of the table. Kristen quirked an eyebrow, as though weighing her options. Her mind was fuzzy from the liquor and it outweighed any sense of shyness or hesitation that she may have been feeling. Gingerly she stood and rather gracelessly made her way around towards him. Only once did she need to hold onto the table for support in her intoxication.

He turned in his chair to face her as she came near to him. Raising his brows challengingly as she reached across him for the bottle. She laughed lightly, a hint of nervousness in her voice. "I don't know what you think of me, but I'm not one of those girls with 'daddy issues.' I'm not looking for someone to boss me around, you know."

He was suddenly far too aware of her proximity and the whiskey in his bloodstream. He halted her arm with his hand as his eyes clouded over. "You may not be one of them girls. But a girl like you? I think you need a bit of bossin around." He released her arm, his other hand finding her hip as they both rose to standing. Kristen felt her breath catch in her throat. Despite the warmth building from her navel downwards, she still felt the stubborn need to object.

"And what makes you think you know anything about what I'd need?" Daryl could hardly contain himself any longer. Something about her was so enticing yet infuriating. With a growl in the back of his throat, he found himself gently pushing her backwards, until her back was firmly pressed against the kitchen's metallic counter top. She couldn't silence the gasp that escaped.

He was drunker than he should have been. Despite how almost sexually aggressive he was being, his eyes were attuned for the slightest sign of unease or nonconsent from her. But the way her irises had darkened and her lips had parted, he felt a rush of excitement and invitation to continue.

Pressing his body against her, his hand snaked around her waist while his other rested cradling the side of her neck. He went back to her question.

"'Kay then sweetheart. You go on and tell me what it is you need, since I have no idea." Despite the alcohol, he was quickly growing hard against her. Kristen's mind was swimming with desire. Her response to his question came out as nothing more than a slight whimper in the back of her throat. Involuntarily, her hips began to slightly rock in circles against him.

He glanced down and smirked at her. "That's what I thought." The smugness in his voice and expression seemed to snap her back to her senses, drunken as they may be. She suddenly found herself overly concerned with the fact that she was being seduced. She couldn't remember the last time that had happened.

It seemed inevitable that they were going to fuck and she at least wanted to have the upper hand. Biting her bottom lip slightly, she toyed with the top of his belt buckle. As though reading her mind, he chuckled lightly and held her tighter, pressing himself more firmly against her – her hands now trapped at her sides. Her cheeks flushed with frustration. It was obvious how hard he was, why wouldn't he let her just get on with it?

He narrowed his eyes, studying her curiously. "Do ya ever just stop fucking worrying for one goddamn second?" When she didn't respond he rocked his pelvis forward, grinding against her. At the sensation, she let out an unconscious groan, her eyes rolling back. Grinning to himself he whispered gruffly in her ear, "That's better."

She wanted to speak or move, but her head was too hazy with lust. She felt as though she were right on the edge of giving up full control to this man. The idea was as frightening to her as it was tempting.

Continuing his assault of her senses, he spoke – his voice a growl. "Tell me, when's the last time a man made you come, sweetheart? I bet you're real hard to get there. Ya probably like it best on top, huh? But I bet when you're up there, ridin' his cock, all ya really want is a man to hold you down and fuck you till ya can't think at all, huh?" He almost couldn't believe the words as they left his lips. He wanted to blame the whiskey, but he knew it was the sight of her, so small and almost baseless in front of him, that was driving him wild.

He could feel her trying to regain movement of her arms and he momentarily shifted to let them free. Almost without warning they snaked around his neck and she crashed her mouth into his. Daryl regained control quickly, his hands finding their way under her bum – he lifted her up and placed her down on the counter. Eagerly she spread her legs to allow him greater proximity as they kissed.

Pressing his tongue against her closed mouth, he pressed for entrance as she refused. He could feel her smiling against his lips. The fact that she seemed to enjoy fighting him for control made his cock throb. Persistently, he continued to demand entrance as his hands found their way to her bum again and he squeezed roughly. She gasped in surprise and he took advantage of it to deepen their kiss. Hungrily he explored her mouth with his tongue. His cock grinding against her newly spread legs, he could almost smell how wet she was. One hand became entangled in her loose curls as he pulled her back. For the second time he asked of her to tell him what she wanted.

This time it was an order. "Tell me what you want."

She mewed incoherently and leaned in to kiss him again. He shook his head and refused. "No. You want me to fuck you?" She nodded emphatically. He took the moment to take in her appearance. Her cheeks were flushed, her hair disheveled, her lips swollen from kissing him. His lips curled into almost a snarl. "Tell me."

Kristen opened her mouth and hesitated for a second. He knew that what he was asking of her wasn't as easy as it sounded. She looked intently at his face, her lips taking on an almost snarl of their own. "I want you to take me to your room and fuck me."

Wrapping her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck, Daryl lifted her as they left for his dormitory. Rushing through the darkened hallway, he almost stumbled once and they both couldn't help but laugh. In their lustful daze, they had seemingly sobered up. The laughter quickly faded though as Daryl kicked his door shut behind them and rather unceremoniously deposited her on the bed.

As he turned to lock the latch, she watched the muscles in his back twitch as though they were going to jump out of his skin. He faced her and gestured to her clothing, simply tilting his head to the side and saying "Off."

She couldn't help but laugh at his bluntness, though his face currently held no trace of a smile. "Come on, girly. You signed up for this. Otherwise I'm gonna hafta come over there and do it for you." She took this as an obvious challenge and leaned back on the bed, propping herself up on her elbows.

This time he laughed to himself. "I was kinda hoping you'd pick to do things the hard way." He climbed onto the bed, and gently placing a knee on either side of her hips running his hands along the length of her torso. He took a small deep breath and lifted the cotton top up over her head, laying her flat on the bed in the process. His eyes traveled down the curves of her body. Her waist nipped in prettily before flaring out into full hips that perfectly suited her frame. Despite everyone's recent weight loss, her breasts still swelled enticingly over the top of her bra. That had to come off next.

With deft hands he reached behind her to undo the clasp. He had half expected/worried that there would be a touch of hesitation in her eyes, but he found his heart skipping a beat as she clawed at his shoulders, trying to remove his vest. He shrugged out of the forsaken clothing, pulling his undershirt off over his head in one motion. She squirmed, sliding the straps of her bra down her arms and tossed it aside.

He took in the sight of her bare chest and swore under his breath. Her breasts were full and soft with the pinkest nipples he'd ever seen. They were quickly hardening under his intent gaze. He lowered himself onto her fully and savored the feeling of her soft breasts pressing against his hard chest as his tongue again found hers. Her hands found their way to the back of his neck, clawing at his shoulders and entwining in his sandy hair. Writhing beneath him she felt both solid and delicate in a way that made his chest ache. Buried under his just-contained lust there was something closer to tenderness.

For the last few weeks he had watched her struggle. Watched her harden her resolve and shoulder her burdens alone. Watched her go hungry and without sleep. Now, for the first time – her eyes weren't swimming with a thousand anxieties and tasks at hand. All he wanted was to give her that relief.

Moving his lips to her neck he left a trail of warm kisses along the smooth skin as his hands reached for her breasts. She let out a whimper and arched her back, giving him greater access. He flicked his tongue over her collarbone, nibbling and sucking lightly as his rough fingers toyed with her nipples until they were little pink nubs in his hands.

As he moved lower to tease her breasts with his tongue, she squirmed with pleasure mumbling his name. He grinned as he kneaded her left breast, taking her right nipple in his mouth until a little mew escaped her throat. He could feel her squirming beneath him as she tried to reach down and undo his belt.

Rising to his knees and keeping his eyes locked on hers, he helped her trembling fingers. He pushed himself back off the bed and let his trousers fall. Kristen's eyes widened at the sight of him. He turned his attention to her cotton leggings, stopping only to graze his lips along the length of her stomach. His fingers toyed along the edge of the waistband as she thrusted her hips upwards, allowing him to remove them.

Her panties were simple cotton, all black. Functional yet sensual, just what he would have expected from her. She was obviously very moist and it drove him wild to think that he had caused that in her. It was the culmination of all the tension and trust that they had experienced in their short time together. As he was debating whether or not to prolong removing her panties, she surprised him by abruptly sitting up and grabbing at his briefs.

"Eager, ain't ya?" He smirked. Yanking them down, his manhood sprung to attention and there was a small whimper in the back of her throat. He was surprised by how almost docile she seemed. Alone with him intimately, it was as though she had finally let her guard down. She was for the first time supple and pliant. Keeping eye contact with him, she gently licked her lips and leaned forward towards his cock. Though the thought of her lips around him drove him crazy, he lifted an arm to halt her.

"No. Lay back." She did as she was told and leaned back, her legs dangling off the bed on either side of him. Licking his lips, he slid her panties off over her bum and down her thighs. He groaned at the sight of her wet sex. Dropping to his knees, he began to graze his teeth along the inside of her thigh. He traced the outline of her bikini line with his rough fingers, breathing warm air over her wet center. The anticipation alone had her writhing about. Teasingly, he brushed his thumb over her swollen clit. She couldn't contain herself at the sensation. "Daryl, stop." Her words were breathless, her eyes fluttering back.

"Oh, now ya talkin'? I was wonderin' how you were so quiet." He starting circling his thumb around her clit slowly. "Ya want me to stop?"

Shuddering, all she could manage was an emphatic shake of her head. Smirking, he lowered his mouth to her as she began to whimper in earnest. His head was spinning from the taste of her. He focused the attention of his tongue on her clit while his fingers teased up and down her soft folds, feeling as her hands found the back of his head. Grabbing onto his hair and holding him roughly against her hot sex. The action spurred him on. Nibbling and sucking on her clit, he inserted a single finger inside her and in a curling motion began stroking her inner walls.

The combination of sensations was sending her over the edge. She tightened her grip on his hair as he caused her to writhe around on the bed. Daryl could only grin, his mouth against her clit. After a few more moments, he could tell that she was getting close. Her inner walls began to tighten around his fingers, her hips bucking against his mouth. He had plans for her to come, but he wanted to be inside her as it happened.

He pulled away, just as he could feel her reaching the point of no return. A pitiful sound burst from her as she opened her mouth to protest. In her haze of lust and drink, she didn't understand what was happening. She didn't know if she wanted to plead with him to continue or yell at him for stopping. The next thing she knew, he was positioned between her legs, his hard cock right at her opening. At this point she was too far gone to care about playing it nonchalant and she wriggled her hips against him, eager to get him inside her and make her come. Daryl was enjoying himself far too much though.

"Not so fast, girly." He grinned wickedly. "You're gonna come when I'm good and ready for ya to." Almost out of desperation for relief, she reached down to touch herself.

"Now why you wanna go and spoil it like that?" Taking her hand, he pressed both of her arms so they lay on the mattress above her head. With one hand holding her arms down, he used his other to rub his cock slowly against her clit. To tease her entrance, dipping ever so slightly but never entering her fully.

Kristen felt as though she were going insane. Nobody had ever made her feel like this. She didn't know if it was the wine lowering her inhibitions, a change in her from the past weeks, or the fact that she simply trusted him. She liked the way he teased her. The way he seemed to know exactly what she wanted him to do, perhaps even before she knew it herself.

_This will change things._ The thought crossed her mind in a little wave of worry. But before she could ruminate on things, ruin her own good time – he entered her. And she found that she couldn't think of anything.

"Fuckin' hell." Daryl couldn't help but swear at how good she felt. So tight and thoroughly ready for him. Everything that he had felt for her had lead to this. With each thrust she moaned or whimpered. Each time she managed a syllable of his name, he could feel his heart jumping in his throat. Her legs entwined around him as she lifted her arms, wrapping them around his neck and shoulder to pull him closer. Her nails dragging across his back, she pressed her lips against his neck and chest with each thrust. The tenderness of it caught him off guard.

Soon her sounds grew more strained, her legs began to tremble and he could feel her constricting and spasming around his cock. He increased his speed and intensity until they collapsed together, fatigued and satisfied. He lay on top of her for a moment and she enjoyed the comfort of his solid weight.

Sliding off, he stretched out along side her, leaned back against the headboard. He was tired. And still a bit drunk. And very unsure now of what to say or do. Physically, he felt so comfortable with her. The sex had been better than he could have hoped for. It was better than he had imagined, alone in his tent.

Kristen suddenly felt very shy and very young. She felt almost like a virgin, unsure of what to do now that the deed was done. She hadn't meant for this to happen with Daryl. But at the same time she knew, she had wanted for it to happen – for much longer than she was willing to admit.

She looked at him, suddenly quiet and reserved, and had to wonder how he could be so confident in his physicality yet so seemingly unsure in his own thoughts. Suddenly he seemed very young to her as well. Something stirred inside her chest and she was overwhelmed with the urge to care for him. It was nothing like the maternal urges she felt for her siblings. It could only be described as a part of the natural rhythm of two partners caring for one another.

Without a word, she rose from the bed and collected the pillows and blankets that been tossed aside in their sexual fury. Gesturing for him to lean forward, she adjusted the pillow behind his head. Taking the comforter, she carefully wrapped it around him before climbing into the bed beside him. Placing a gentle kiss on his cheek, she nestled against him and found sleep much faster than she would have expected.

For Daryl, it wouldn't come as easily. The second he had come, the second his haze of lust wore off – he was plagued with worry that he had made a mistake. Perhaps she had been too drunk to know what she was doing. Perhaps she would regret it and him in the morning. But with her sleeping soundly beside him, he started to relax. As he moved to find a more comfortable position, she stirred in her sleep, his name on her lips. A warmth grew in his chest.

_This will change things._


	14. Chapter 14

**MIGHTIEST OF GUNS**

**CHAPTER FOURTEEN**

_AUTHORS NOTE: Thanks y'all for tuning in. As always feedback is very appreciated and always a great push to encourage quicker updates! Hope you're all enjoying what is left of your summers and best of luck to my fellow students starting a new academic year! Some parts of the plot are being glossed over a little bit - I find that writing/reading about things that we've already seen in the episodes can seem a bit tedious. So if something from the cannon seems rushed, it's only because I'm so eager to get to my own ideas that come later. :)_

Kristen awoke with no real concept of time. She was never one to sleep in after a night of heavy drinking. She'd awaken to her skin sheened with alcohol-tinged sweat, a fuzzy feeling in her mouth, and a pounding in her skull. She would kick the sheets off and stumble into the shower, her brain desperately trying to recollect all of the hazy images from the previous night – trying to get a gauge of how big a fool she had made of herself. This morning felt different to those. She imagined that it had to be about dawn but inside the labyrinth of the CDC, it was difficult to tell.

She shifted and sat up in bed. Daryl stirred beside her but didn't wake. She suddenly became very conscious of everything that had transpired the night before. Conscious of his scent on her skin. The dull ache between her legs. She swore to herself and cringed. _Had he pulled out before he came? They certainly hadn't used a condom. How could she be so stupid?_

Mentally, she worked through the timeline of her menstrual cycle – not an easy task since calendars had become obsolete. Feeling sixteen and stupid, she came to the conclusion that she should be fine – though it would be a few weeks before she'd know for sure. This couldn't happen again, not like that.

It struck her that she was much more upset about the practicalities of their sex but not at the fact that it had even occurred. She didn't feel the familiar shame or discomfort of waking up with someone. Didn't feel the need to sneak out before he woke.

But what would Daryl think? Maybe he was the kind of man who would feign sleep until she left of her own volition. She had fallen asleep so soon after the sex, she hadn't had time to process the encounter. She had been so wary of becoming close to him, for fear that it would be a distraction from their survival. She realized now, that the true distraction had been the energy she put into denying her feelings, her own resistance.

There wasn't any room for questioning things anymore. The thought of wondering what their having sex _meant_ or where they stood now seemed laughable. It was something that had just happened. They were both still here.

But as she turned and watched him dozing restfully, she knew deep in her chest that she was oversimplifying things. Whenever she'd hear the cliché old statement: _girls get really emotional and clingy after sex_, she would roll her eyes and harden her own frigid resolve. But looking at him, she knew that a part of it was true. No, she wasn't going to have any real expectations of him, no jealousies or sense of possession. But now, if he was lost or made the decision to leave them – it was going to hurt much more.

He rolled over in his sleep, his back facing her. Though the room was dark from the lack of windows, she could still make out his form clearly. She could see scarring across his upper back and shoulder blades. For a moment she wondered about just how enthusiastic she had been in bed but the thought quickly faded as she took in the extent of them. Furrowing her brow, she gently lifted the sheet and examined his back. A large lump formed in her throat. The markings were deep and ugly. Some looked as though they must have been in the healing process when the skin was again flayed open. They had to be decades old.

She had assumed that Daryl had lived a less than idyllic life, but she hadn't expected the extent of the violence inflicted upon him. So many things started to make sense. From his relationship with Merle to his quiet reservations, to the almost wistful way that she would catch him watching her with her family. Lightly, she traced the scarring with her fingers. As though his spine was a book of Braille and she was trying to find an explanation as to how the markings came to be.

She quickly withdrew her hand as he grunted in his sleep, rolling over to his back. She came to the startling realization that this was the first time she had actually seen him sleeping. It felt like every night as she tucked herself into the SUV with Val that he was up taking first watch. Every morning when she rose to help prepare breakfast, he was already awake – scouting the perimeter, caring for the firearms. She tucked the blanket back around him and willed that he find a few more hours peaceful rest.

Gingerly, she climbed off the bed. Tiptoeing around the room, she gathered up her abandoned clothing and dressed. She felt a bit silly and hoped that she wouldn't run into anyone on her way to the showers.

Of course she did.

Jacqui and Lori were already awake, treating their own hangovers with the blissfully warm water of the center's showers. Lori's eyes widened perceptibly at the sight of Kristen's mussed hair and clothing from the day before. Kristen offered a small and slightly sheepish smile, mumbled a 'Good Morning.'

Jacqui smiled warmly and wryly. "Looks like for you it was a good morning."

Daryl awoke to an empty room. He groaned, rubbing his eyes. It took a few seconds to deduce that the events of the night before had really occurred. He _had_ had some vivid images before when alone in his tent. But no, she had really been here. She had spent the entire night with him.

He knew for a fact because instinctively, his body would wake him up about once every hour. His eyes would shoot open and he'd find himself instantly alert, his muscles jumping and his fingers twitching. And each time it happened, she was laying beside him. Breathing softly and sleeping deeply.

At one point he crept out of the room to use the bathroom. When he returned, she had moved to the center of the double bed, her arms and legs sprawled out. She was like a gas that had to occupy as much bed space as possible. He stood awkwardly for a moment, just watching her sleep. He wondered if he should just lay down on the floor, rather than risk waking her. He realized how stupid he was being. Only hours earlier he had literally been inside of her. And now he was getting shy about nudging her over?

Sitting on the edge of the bed, he gently lifted her arm and tried to roll her back over to her side of the bed. She raised enough to allow him to slide in beside her before she collapsed again in the same spot, now sprawled across his chest and torso. Unused to having such close contact, he again tried to nudge her away. This time she stirred to a state of half-sleep.

She opened her eyes just enough to glare at him and grumbled something along the lines of, 'how dare you…sleeping…now" before stubbornly laying her head on his chest. He had to smirk. That first night when they found themselves thrown together in Dale's RV – he had tried to imagine what she must be like in the throes of sleep. Now he knew. And she was terrifying.

He lay rigid for a moment. The pull of the whiskey had begun to wear off and he felt self conscious and overly self aware. He never spent the night with women. He'd always sneak out after the act. Or if it was a particularly rough night, rather coldly ask them to leave. He tried to focus his attentions on her, distract himself from his own self-doubts. He began to relax. Her breath was soft and warm on his collarbone, her chest rising and falling in gentle swells against his own. Easing himself into a more comfortable position, she stirred again but this time just hummed happily against him. He slept more soundly after that.

Now awake, the empty room showed no real trace of her besides the warm indent in her pillow. He turned to the side and on his night side table found a single glass of water. He remembered her the night before, yelling at her brothers to bring some up to bed with them. That they'd be thirsty in the morning. He shook his head affectionately at the thought of her.

At breakfast, the group was in various states of disarray. It was clear that everyone had had some steam that needed to be let off. Kristen brewed a pot of coffee. Holding the full pot inches from her nose she breathed in deeply, savoring the aroma. She had wondered if she was ever going to get to have a real cup of coffee again. Carol dished out plates of scrambled eggs made from powder, while she poured the coffee and passed out mugs. Her brothers came to the table. Liam slumped in his seat, cradled his head in his hands. Kristen quirked an eyebrow at Sean, as if to say _you better have looked after him._ Sean merely smiled and shrugged his shoulders.

Kristen took her seat and was eager to tuck into her eggs when Val came bounding over. Eagerly the little girl climbed into her lap, threw her arms around Kristen's neck. Happily, Val told her all about her sleepover. Sophia and Carl had played board games with her all night. Kristen turned her full attention to her little sister. It dawned on her that she was always so preoccupied with Val's safety that had failed to spend any real quality time with the girl. Suddenly, she felt almost guilty for spending the night with Daryl. She could only hope that now they were at the CDC, there would be many more nights spent in security.

Kristen shifted and relaxed in her seat so Val could sit more comfortably. She listened animatedly, asked questions about the games they played. Asked her what happened in the book she was reading. Val's face lit up at the attention, the chance to have a conversation with her big sister that didn't involve safety rules and warnings. Kristen's eggs and coffee went cold.

Kristen was so distracted by the little girl that she didn't notice when Daryl entered the room. He nodded a greeting and poured himself a cup of coffee, taking a seat. Glancing up at Sean and Liam, they didn't seem to regard him any differently than before. He was weirdly relieved that they must have been too drunk themselves to know that anything had happened with their sister.

He looked at her. Her eyes were on her sister's and she was playing with the girl's hair. He felt a little surge of warmth watching them. They were talking and laughing and for an instant he felt inexplicably jealous. He couldn't tell if it was petty jealousy because a part of him wanted attention from her, or if it was something deeper. Some leftover residue of being an unwanted child. He cleared his throat and took a sip of his coffee, joined Rick and Shane in their conversation.

Val turned to face the table, still seated in her sister's lap. Kristen rested her chin on the top of Val's head as the little girl picked at Kristen's now cold eggs. She chanced a few glances over at Daryl, each time not knowing what to expect. She had thought he would ignore her, at least in the presence of others, so it didn't surprise her that he hadn't tried to speak with her. Across the table he caught her eye more than once and she couldn't help her lips from twitching at a smile. This seemed to ease some tension within him. He relaxed in his seat, laughed easier at something that Glenn had said.

The laughter didn't last for very long though. The group seemed eager to get the truth from Doctor Jenner about the outbreak. Kristen couldn't really understand what their rush was for answers. She would have made this cup of coffee last all day long if she could. But the meal was over before she knew and they found themselves in the main control room with Jenner, having the realities of their horror explained.

Kristen wrapped her arms around herself as she watched the video of the brain scan. A horrible chill ran down her spine as the synapses of the once dead brain suddenly began to fire off, reanimating. As horrible as that news was, it was nothing compared to when Jenner told them the building was running out of power. Nothing compared to the prospect of 'decontamination.'

As the men went to check the basement generators, instinct told Kristen to get everyone packed up. She tried to keep her tone light and her face positive as she helped Val gather up her belongings, but she felt a permeating sense of deep unease. It was as they were packing their things that an alarm began to blare. Her heart started pounding, Val visibly grew afraid. Grabbing her pack and her sister's hand, they flew from the sleeping quarters for the main control room.

They ran into Daryl in the hallway. "Where the fuck were ya? Come on." He grabbed their packs as they sprinted back to the control center.

The scene was chaos. Everyone pleading with the doctor, Shane holding a gun to his head, Carol in hysterical tears. Jenner just calmly continuously explained the situation. They were stuck. They were going to die. Rage consumed her. She had given everything to try and keep the kids safe and sound. And this man so cavalierly was deciding that it was the end for them. She was just opening her mouth to join in on the shouting when she heard a wheeze beside her.

Val's hysterics had triggered an attack of her asthma. The little girl began breathing in rapidly and shallowly, unable to release the air. Her eyes were burning with tears and her chest was quaking. In seconds Kristen was kneeling on the floor beside her sister and yelling for Liam to find her an inhaler. The sight of the little girl struggling for breath seemed to send Sean, and even Daryl, into an even greater spiral of anger at the doctor. As Kristen loaded the inhaler and placed it to her sister's lips, she could hear Sean and Daryl uselessly trying to smash in the door.

"I ain't gonna let them die here."

Kristen wanted to just yell at them all to be quiet. Val needed to focus, needed to calm down. She did her best to whisper soothing words to her sister as the little girl fought for breath. For some reason the medicine wasn't working. Or if it was working, the situation was so frightening and stressful for the child that another attack was easily triggered. Kristen took her up in her arms, rubbing her back in frantic concentric circles. Wishing desperately that she could change places with the chid.

As the color began to drain from her sister's face, her lips started to take on a bluish tint – Kristen found _herself_ unable to breathe. She didn't know what to do. It was almost like she was begging her sister to take a breath. "Come on sweetie, I know you can do this. You just have to relax. You can do this, my brave girl. Yeah, inhale. Just like that."

She was so preoccupied and close to tears that she didn't even notice at first when the doors creaked open. Didn't notice until Daryl and Sean came running over. Daryl scooped the little girl into his arms, her inhaler still to her lips. Kristen ran alongside, doing her best to continue her breathing coaching. With each step that Daryl carried her closer to the outside, Val's breathing seemed to get a bit better. Until to their horror, they were still trapped topside.

This time Kristen joined in with their desperate attempts to break through the glass, as Liam held his younger sister. Standing alongside Daryl and T-Dogg, uselessly slamming at the glass – she kept catching glimpses of her family out of the corner of her eye. They were so close to the outside. They couldn't die like this. As Carol's grenade went off, smashing the glass, Kristen feared for a second that the explosion would set the air on fire like Jenner had explained. For that split second, she wondered if that would be for the best.

It was pure adrenaline that carried them from the doomed building back to their cars. They jumped inside the nearest vehicle, the white van, for cover. She held the door open, ushering her family inside – until Daryl appeared behind her, physically pushing her into the van and closing the door behind her. It didn't hit her until then that Jacqui hadn't come out with them. Dale and Andrea had just narrowly made it. Kind and warm Jacqui, who just this morning had good-naturedly teased her. She had perished in the place that was supposed to be their saving grace.

Val's breathing was staggered and slow but luckily the girl had come through it. Kristen pulled her knees into her chest. Putting her face in her hands, she sat wordless and still as a statue. It was all too much. Just too much. Their hopes for survival had all rested in the place. And they had been stupid enough to relax a spell, to give it a modicum of trust. And in the end, it turned out to be their closest call. Was there any one thing good left? Any one thing to put your faith in. She wanted so badly to curl up in a ball and cry.

Wordlessly, Sean climbed over the median to the driver's seat and started the engine. Kristen could hear the familiar whirr of Daryl's truck starting and soon they were moving again. She felt an arm around her shoulder and turned to see Liam, his eyes weary and concerned. She leaned into him and let the tears come. She reached for Val, pulling her close. The three of them sat in silence as the van weaved along the caravan.


	15. Chapter 15

**MIGHTIEST OF GUNS**

**CHAPTER FIFTEEN**

The C.D.C. had been a rough blow. Not only as individuals, but on the morale of the group as a whole. Daryl could sense the cracks forming. Jacqui's decision to 'opt out.' Andrea's foiled plans to do the same. The pervasive sense of hopelessness was getting to them all. Daryl didn't think that Shane's idea of Fort Benning was any better. But they needed to do something. They just needed anything to hold onto.

It had been a personal blow for him to say goodbye to his truck. That heap of junk had been in his life longer than anyone, except Merle. But it had been a lot more damn consistent. A part of him regretted the decision to take the motorcycle instead. Not only because it provided less cover, there was something about having to drive alone. He'd find himself strangely jealous of the people in the larger vehicles. Safety wasn't the only thing that came in numbers. So did comfort.

Alone on the bike, all he had were his own thoughts for company. And lately, there wasn't much good to think about. Riding Merle's bike brought up a set of issues all on its own. He hadn't let himself think of his brother for a while. That long ride back from Atlanta, after they found his hand - Daryl had tried so hard to convince himself that Merle was dead. Not only for Merle's sake, (how long could he possibly survive one-handed without suffering) but for his own.

He had come to the conclusion that the walkers weren't the worst thing. Even death wasn't so bad. The real torture was the anticipation of it all. Never allowing your eyes to rest on a single sight for too long. Never letting yourself fall too deeply into a thought. Because you never knew where or when the next threat was going to come from. He hadn't thought that they were going to be able to stay at the C.D.C. forever. But he certainly didn't imagine that things would end the way that had.

And now they were expected to just pick up the pieces and move on as though nothing had happened. For some reason, the culmination of their time at the C.D.C. had him much more shaken up than the previous battles with biters. They had only lost Jacqui, and even then it was of her own volition. But it scared him. A death by walkers was one thing. He could understand it. But to fall at the hands of another person... To fall at your own hand… He revved the motorcycle's engine.

They had to keep moving.

Kristen hoped that they would never _stop_ moving.

As long as they drove along, she felt like things were okay. She felt like they had control. She had been deeply affected by the events at the C.D.C. Val's asthma had never frightened her so badly. Despite the chaos, the events there had been controlled enough that she could properly tend to her sister. If Val should have an attack like that in the open, she could easily attract walkers. If God forbid, she should have an attack like that during a skirmish… She couldn't think about it.

She sat in the van's middle row of seating, her eyes glued to the window, her fingers nervously tapping at her top lip. T-Dog sat in the front seat, deep in quiet conversation with her brother. Liam dozed listlessly beside her, Val stretched out in the back seat pouting. The little girl had begged to ride with Sophia and Carl. Kristen couldn't let her go.

She knew she had to shake it off. If she let herself get so deeply affected by every bad thing, she would never make it. She tried to remind herself that they had survived. They made it. That was all that mattered. But she found no real solace.

She thought of Andrea, lamenting the fact that Dale had cost her the last chance she had to die in peace. The horrifying image of Jewish mothers drowning their children in the bath, Nazi soldiers at the door, came to mind. Kristen knew that she would do whatever she could to protect her siblings. But she knew that she could never do that. What she didn't know was if that fact made her stronger or weaker.

Her heart ached for T-Dog. She knew that he and Jacqui had been especially close. It didn't matter that they hadn't known each other before the outbreak. She could testify personally how easy it was to become bonded to strangers nowadays. For the first time since they left the C.D.C. she allowed her thoughts to wander back to Daryl. It hadn't seemed appropriate. She hadn't spoken more than two sentences to him since. Her worst fear would be for him to turn away from her now. Whether out of a sense of awkwardness, or worse – disappointment. She tried to justify the fear, to write off her feelings. It wasn't that she wanted him, or wanted him to want her. It was just about survival.

Selfishly, she had begun to rely on him. She had grown accustomed to his presence, moreso than any of the other survivors. When she struggled to carry her sister, he was the one who turned back. When the warning alarms blared in the C.D.C., he was the one who looked for her. It was just about self-preservation. Subconsciously, maybe she had slept with him out of a perverse sense of gratitude. Some primal instinct to try and keep him around, to keep her family safe. But then she thought of the way he looked as he slept. The way the scars along his spine had tugged at her heartstrings. The way she would find herself trying to catch his eye, simply because she liked the way it made her stomach jump. A reminder that all thrills didn't have to feel so damn scary.

But that was what scared her the most of all. He didn't owe her anything. If he had decided to 'opt out' in the C.D.C., what would she have done? What could she do? Plead with him to live because she needed him? Because she wanted him?

"Shit."

She heard her brother swear from the driver's seat, felt the sudden change in movement of the SUV. Propping herself up, she took a good look out the windshield. The road was littered with cars, similar to the roadblock outside Atlanta.

"I guess we're going this way then." Sean turned the steering wheel, following the caravan to an off road path as Daryl lead.

Their speed had slowed to a crawl. No doubt Daryl was checking around each vehicle before inching the motorcycle forward. She suddenly hated the thought of him so exposed on the bike. She had had to stop herself from protesting when he decided to leave the truck in favor the more fuel-efficient bike. The caravan's movement no longer felt comforting.

"Uh oh." T-Dog gestured to the RV as it sputtered to a stop, smoke billowing out of one of the pipes. "Looks like we're gonna be here a while."

Sean was the first out of the car and examining the RV. Her brother did have a gift with automobiles. Hotwiring and jerry-rigging. She silently pleaded with him not to mention anything about chop shops. Liam joined Daryl and T-Dog in siphoning gasoline. She was glad to see her brothers productive and contributing.

T-Dog had been surprised at the ease at which Liam siphoned fuel, the way he didn't hesitate before sucking the gasoline into his mouth. Liam smirked, "We can't all drive church vans."

Daryl looked the boy over, checked to see if his rifle was slung over his back. It wasn't. His blood boiled upon learning that Shane and Dale had gathered up the guns. What was the point in risking their asses for all those guns if nobody was going to be able to use them? He left Liam and T-Dog to their task and went to find Dale.

He was perched on top of the RV, binoculars in hand, that stupid hat upon his head. Daryl used his hand to shield his eyes from the sun and called up to him. "What gives? What the fuck you do with my guns?"

Dale looked down, his expression even and his face calm. "The less guns going around here the better. We don't want anyone getting trigger-happy and attracting attention. Or hurting themselves." Dale couldn't help his gaze from drifting over to Andrea.

"I don't care what you think. I got a kid over there with a fuckin' 8 year old sister to protect. I went back to Atlanta and got them guns and if I think they should have them, they're gonna."

Dale seemingly conceded to Daryl's points. Making his way down the ladder, he led him inside the RV. Daryl rolled his eyes and swore to himself as he grabbed Liam's rifle and Kristen's pistol. He was pissed that they had given them up in the first place. He stormed out of the RV without another word to Dale.

Double checking that the safety was on, he tossed the rifle at Liam's feet. "You ain't lettin' that outta your sight again."

The teenage boy simply nodded.

Going through the abandoned cars, Kristen had made herself brighten up for the sake of Val. Tried to make the prospect of finding some new clothes or books in the salvageable automobiles seem fun. And in a way, it was. There was so little that she could do to make her sister happy nowadays. She found a worn copy from the 'A Series of Unfortunate Events' series and thought it seemed fitting. She tried her best not to think of what had become of the children who had originally owned the book.

She was prying open the door of a nearby station wagon when Daryl approached, her pistol in his hand. She could see he wasn't happy. Her eyes quickly went to Val, who was rummaging through a suitcase of clothing with Carol and Sophia, looking for girl's things. "You here to yell at me?"

His voice was soft but his tone was stern. "I didn't give it to ya for you to hand it over to Dale. Don't know what those assholes are thinkin'. Y'all should all be armed."

She considered the weapon in his hand. Grimacing slightly, she took it from him, tucking it in the waistband of her jeans. "You know I'm a lousy shot, still."

He rolled his eyes. "Quit it with the excuses. I don't care. I'll feel better knowin' you have it with you. God forbid you get separated or some shit." The more he talked, the more worked up he seemed to get. "If I'm out on a hunt or somethin', I ain't trustin' any of these people to look out for you or that little girl."

She had a playful response on her tongue, but the seriousness in his expression made her swallow it down. She eyed him up sincerely and nodded. Gruffly he mumbled something incoherent and turned to leave. It looked like they weren't going to be having a heart to heart about their intimate encounter. She was strangely relieved. Suddenly remembering something, she called for him.

"Hey, wait." He came to a stop and turned as she walked to their pile of supplies and procured a small linen knapsack. Inside were a few clean, warm flannels, a pair of worn jeans, a package of unopened razors, and a carton of cigarettes.

"I found a few things for you. Just some clothes and toiletries. I think the sizes should be okay. I got a good look at your clothes when we… you know. Anyways, I figured it would be easier if I kept it in the SUV for you now that you're on the bike. Just so you know, it's there."

He looked at the pack in her hands and blinked rapidly several times. He opened his mouth to speak, but shut it saying nothing. Instead he made his way back over to her and wordlessly reached behind her to remove the pistol from her waist. He showed her three more times how to turn the safety on and off, the best way to hold and aim. After making her demonstrate for him a good number of times, he went back to helping T-Dog and Liam.

Kristen would be glad that Daryl insisted on her taking the gun back when, about half an hour later, Rick came rushing towards them – urging them all to hide. Kristen grabbed her little sister and they dove under the nearest car. She silently thanked God that they had been nearest the car of someone who clearly was trying to compensate for something. It was wide and deep enough that they could easily hide underneath. She knew better than use her gun, but the fact that it was there gave her a small sense of security.

They watched in silent terror as one by one, dozens of walkers passed by. She didn't risk moving a muscle, not even to crane her neck – but her eyes searched desperately for any sign of her brother's safety. She resigned herself to listening intently for any sign of a struggle. Hearing a scream that could only be Andrea's, Val stiffened against her chest. She risked wrapping her arms more tightly around the girl, in an attempt to keep her calm. She could hardly keep her own arms from trembling. She would never get used to this. In her mind, she was already reciting Andrea's eulogy.

The last she had seen Sean, he had been on top of the RV with Dale. She could only hope that he had been able to see the herd before anyone else, had been able to hide. Liam, she knew had been with Daryl. She knew he'd be okay. The herd slowly began to pass and Kristen could feel her breath slowing to normal. She rubbed Val's hair and pressed her lips to the girl's hair. Things were going to be okay.

They both jerked as a sudden scream broke the eerie silence. Kristen couldn't keep herself from shifting her body and looking to see Sophia in hysterics, discovered by a walker. Val opened her mouth and Kristen clamped her hand down over it roughly before the building scream could release. She kept her hand in place so forcefully that tears welled in Val's eyes from the sheer physical pressure of it.

They watched in horror as Sophia slid out from under the vehicle and sprinted into the woods, closely trailed by a number of walkers. And Rick. The sudden commotion seemed to draw whatever walkers remained away from the remaining survivors. Regardless, Kristen had yet to remove her hand from Val's mouth. Her eyes brimmed with tears as they found Carol's and took in the pure terror and devastation on the woman's face. Lori had had to hold the woman down.

Slowly, making sure the coast was clear – they emerged from under the vehicles. Carol and Lori held each other in a show of mutual fear for the people they loved. Kristen's eyes darted for a sign of her brothers. Sean was still on top of the RV, his eyes glued to the distance, searching for signs of another herd. Liam was with Daryl and a severely bleeding T-Dog. She threw her arms tightly around Liam and was struck with a memory of all the times she'd hugged him as a child. The way his head would always find the hollow of her throat. Now, his chin rested upon the top of her head. Where had the time gone?

He rolled his eyes good-naturedly at her when she finally released him, picking up his younger sister he kissed her cheeks and tried to calm her fears. Seeing the two of them together, and knowing what Carol must be feeling, made her chest go tight.

She turned to Daryl, and wrapping her arms around his neck, whispered 'thank you.' She didn't know if he had done anything in particular to keep Liam safe, but she somehow knew that if it had been Val running off into the woods – he would have chased after her without a second thought. Despite all of the day's tragedy, she was awash with a sense of something at the number of people who would be there for her family.

Kristen gathered Val and Carl together, she thought it was best to give Lori the space she needed to worry about her husband. She did her best to distract the two children from their worries. Reassured them that Sophia and Rick were going to be back any minute. "Sophia is going to have some great adventures to tell you two about."

When Rick returned alone, a little while later, their hearts all dropped to the pits of their stomachs. She could hardly look at Carol. Everyone tried their best to lend support and comfort but she knew there was nothing to be said. She did her best to keep the other two children occupied, gathered some food and water for anyone who was hungry. Tried to stop her mind from fixating on just what Rick and Daryl might discover out in the wilderness.

Clearly, they hadn't discovered much of interest. As night fell they returned, with no word or real sign of Sophia. Daryl's face fell when he took in the grief around the camp, as though he were personally responsible for it. Kristen couldn't blame Carol for her anger. She couldn't even begin to imagine how she would act in the same position.

As Daryl settled in for the night (one that would surely not bring about much rest) she tried to bring him something small to eat. When he refused, she insisted.

"If you're going to make me carry a dangerous weapon, the least you can do for me is eat some peanuts and dried jerky."

He said nothing but slowly began to chew. She continued. "I know it may not seem like it right now, but Carol is so, so appreciative of you two looking for Sophia. We all are."

He grunted. "A lot of damn good appreciation is gonna do anybody. Especially that little girl. I couldn't even keep her fucking trail clear."

"No. Whatever happens to Sophia, whatever happens to any of us – it's not any of our own faults. You've already done so much for all of us." She glanced over to the SUV where Val and Carl were tucked in for the night.

He followed her gaze. "You don't let that little girl out of yer sight, ya hear? Sophia is years older than her and look what's happened."

Gnawing on her bottom lip, she nodded. She opened and closed her mouth, considering her words carefully. "You think she's out there, Sophia? You think she's okay?"

He looked up at her, a shake of his head. "Don't matter what I think. Ain't gonna stop lookin' for that little girl."

His sincerity and brutal honesty stirred something in her chest. Her eyes dropped to his lips, the way they remained tensed after forming the words. Fixated on him, she couldn't stop herself from leaning in and pressing her lips to his.

Caught off guard, he flinched, before relaxing into the sensation. It was nothing like their kisses in the C.D.C. Without the influence of alcohol and pent up frustrations and lust, they were both tentative. As she pulled away, her eyes widened and her brows furrowed in an expression of almost fear.

This time, his eyes were the ones fixated on her mouth. He watched as she opened and closed her mouth once more before settling on a hesitant and sad smile. "We'll all go looking in the morning."

He watched until her until she locked the SUV door safely behind her.

**AUTHORS NOTE: Aren't you guys proud of me, Three updates in the course of a week! Getting better at being consistent. **** As always, reviews and feedback are the best incentive to update. I want to know what you guys like and don't, what direction you'd like to see the characters go. I'm still really torn thinking about which characters are going to survive – whilst sticking to the cannon moderately. It just seems unrealistic to me that all of Kristen's siblings will live for the length of the story. Also, I received one inquiry about whether or not this is going to be a story where the OC becomes pregnant. I can safely say at this point no. I brought up the concern because it really is the most realistic worry that a woman would have after drunk unprotected sex. But no babies on the horizion **** Again, thank you all so much and I can safely say that in the next few chapters the story is going to go in a completely new direction. Things between Daryl and Kristen are progressing slowly but positively – but that doesn't mean they won't be torn apart. ;)**


	16. Chapter 16

**MIGHTIEST OF GUNS**

**CHAPTER SIXTEEN**

Everyone rose early the next morning, eager to resume the search for Sophia. Kristen roused Val and Carl from sleep. The young boy had spent the night in the SUV with them, sprawled out across the back seat. Lori had given her a sad and grateful smile when she offered to take him. She thought it was good for Val and Carl to be together as they were worried about their friend.

Kristen had done her best to keep them occupied and calm. She had read to them a few chapters from the books they had found, snuck them a few old, melted sweets. But they were too distracted for stories, their expressions listless as they sucked the hard candies.

They had to find Sophia, for the sake of the other kids as well. She could see the fear in Val's eyes magnified. A part of Kristen had perhaps naively thought that nothing would happen to the children. They were too young and innocent. That same part of her clung to the hope that they would find Sophia. That maybe if Sophia were safe and sound, that would prove her theory – nothing bad would ever befall Val either.

The group gathered around the RV, deciding who would stay behind and discussing scouting areas. Kristen wasn't surprised when Carl asked to join in on the search but she _was _surprised when Lori agreed to it.

In the next instant when Val opened her mouth, she cringed, knowing what the question was going to be. The little girl begged and pleaded to scout the woods with them. Whined about being left back at camp. She could feel the eyes of the camp on her and her cheeks flushed. Even nowadays, nobody wanted to appear to be an incompetent parent.

She crouched down so she was eye to eye with her sister. "I know you're worried about Sophia and you want to help. But what you can really do for us is stay here with Mr. Dale and Mr. T-dog. If Sophia comes back while we're gone, she's going to need a friend here for her. Can you do that?"

The little girl nodded seriously, as though having just taken on a monumental task. Kristen smiled lightly, but could feel an anxiety building inside of her. Of course she trusted Dale and T-Dog, but after witnessing the herd from the day before – she was very uneasy about leaving her little sister here.

"It's alright if you want to stay here with her, Kristen. I understand." Even through her own grief, Carol could sympathize with Kristen's maternal hesitation.

"No, she'll be fine. If it were Val out there, I'd want every single person possible looking for her." She squeezed the older woman's arm, "And we're going to find her."

The conversation quickly turned to talk of guns. As Andrea complained about Dale keeping her gun away, Kristen felt overly conscious of the pistol at her waist. A part of her wanted to even offer the gun to her. Andrea was most likely a much better shot, and clearly felt more comfortable with a firearm. As though reading her mind, Daryl suddenly shot her a dirty look, so she kept her offerings to herself.

As they made their way through the woods, she was happy that Val was not with them. Daryl was unbelievably fast at tracking. She couldn't understand how he could read the forest floor the way he did. Everything just looked like nondescript leaves and dirt to her. She found herself grateful for the group they had fallen in with. She couldn't imagine where the four of them would be now if they had continued on alone like she had initially thought to do.

She watched her two brothers. She could hardly recognize them anymore. In a way, the world going to hell might have been what saved Sean, what kept Liam from going down a similar path of crime and destruction. Prior to the breakout, things had been especially dire at home. She and Sean had been fighting more than ever. Mainly about money, the ways he was acquiring it. So badly she had wanted him to go away to school. If he applied for scholarships and financial aid, he might have managed it.

But at the same time, she knew that she couldn't afford the upkeep of the house and kids without him. She just refused to admit it to either of them, a façade that he could easily see through. Too intelligent for some menial minimum wage job, but lacking the resources and resume for 'proper' employment, she knew that he was getting himself involved in less than legitimate work. It scared her and she was terrified that Liam would follow the same trajectory.

Now though, Liam was in the front of the group with Daryl. The hunter was pointing out different signs of evidence in the vegetation. She was sure that if Daryl realized he was being a positive male role model, that he would crumble within himself and clam up. The corners of her mouth itched at a smile.

Daryl thought the boy was smart. So much so, that when Daryl decided to trek ahead a bit and examine the trail, he asked the boy to accompany him. Liam listened to Daryl clearly and demonstrated his understanding in kind. Right now, the boy was looking to the ground – searching for leaves shrubbery that might be bent in unnatural angles, a sign of movement. The teenager had a natural precision that would make for a good hunter.

Daryl swore in frustration when the trail went cold. He gestured for Liam to rest a minute. They would wait for the rest of the group to catch up before their next move. He had hoped that the trail would pick and lead them all directly to Sophia, but it appeared they would have to take a different approach.

"Ya ever been huntin'?" He thought it important that someone else be able to go out and catch food. Should something happen to himself, somebody needed to feed them all. And Liam seemed like the only one who could walk through the woods without alerting every goddamn animal.

Still, the boy scoffed at the question. "Nah, not quite. Not many places to hunt up in Southie." He chuckled to himself. "This one time though, there was this guy in the neighborhood who had it bad for my sister. He would go out hunting in Vermont. One day he shows up at the door with a cooler fucking full of a moose." Liam affectionately shook his head at the memory but the thought of another man hunting for Kristen made Daryl feel weirdly annoyed. And a moose was a lot bigger than a squirrel.

"Did y'all eat it?"

"She spent days trying to figure out how to make meatloaf out of it. In the end, Sean sold it at a swap meet. Said it was veal that fell off the back of a butcher's truck."

The day's search was proving to be fruitless. After a false alarm and a small skirmish inside a church, everyone's spirits were low. As much as she hated to admit it, Kristen was relieved when the majority of the group decided to head back to the cars. She wanted to make sure she was back with Val before dark. Liam expressed an interest in staying behind with Rick and Shane and continuing the search. Kristen didn't like leaving him behind, but knew better than to protest. Even Carl was going to continue looking after all.

It was obvious that Daryl didn't approve of the group splitting up any more either. He kept swearing and shaking his head as they slowly made their way back to the highway, scouting the darkening forest for signs of Sophia along the way.

"The less numbers we travel in, the better our chances of getting' picked off. Ain't enough guns going around 'neither."

Andrea scoffed at the comment, still annoyed. "Maybe more of us would be armed if we all had men to look after us." She shot a pointed glare towards Lori and Kristen.

Kristen's cheeks flushed but it was Lori who spoke up, the group falling into a tense silence following Andrea's scolding. They were all shook back into action when the firing of a rifle cracked the sky. Kristen's thoughts flew to Liam. Was that the kind of sound his gun would make? She and Lori were instantly on edge.

And it would soon become painfully apparent that Lori had every reason to be afraid. Kristen didn't think that the day could become any stranger when the young woman appeared on horseback, whisking Lori away to a critically injured Carl. Kristen's eyes found Sean's. There had been no mention of Liam. They could only hope that, that was a good thing. It had been a bad twenty-four hours for the kids of the group. She was eager to get back to her own.

Val's eyes were as wide as saucers when they returned to the highway. The poor girl had to think that people just kept disappearing. First Sophia, now Carl and her own big brother seemingly vanished. Sean lifted her up in a big hug, told her that Liam was safe at a big farm – that they were going to see him. She seemed to sense better than to ask about Carl.

Kristen was alarmed by the state T-Dog was in. It was frightening to be reminded that walkers weren't the only things that could kill you. It was obvious that T-Dog needed to get to that farm. If they had the resources to help Carl, they could certainly do more for T-Dog than just Merle's stash. He and Glen began to load up Carol's Cherokee.

As the rest of the group decided to stay at the RV in case Sophia should make her way back, Kristen turned to Glen. "I have to come with you."

Daryl interrupted, shaking his head. "Nah. It won't do no good for this group to be splittin' up any more."

"I'm not leaving Liam there alone. You said it yourself, we don't even know these people, besides the fact that one of them _shot_ Carl." Kristen instantly regretted her words as Val suddenly whimpered at the news of her friend.

"First of all, Liam ain't alone. He's with Rick, Shane, and Lori. And secondly, what are you gonna do even if they ain't good people? You keep saying yourself that you're a shit shot. At least here you can look after you sister, think of her." He gestured towards Sean, "If you're that worried about him – if Sean wants to go, it's his prerogative."

All she could do was narrow her eyes at him.

Even if the things that he was saying made sense, she was annoyed that she didn't have a rebuttal. The fact that he would even think to tell her that she needed to think of Val enraged her. He should know better than most in the group that every single move she made was with her siblings in mind. The stubborn and petty side of her so badly wanted to leave for the farm, just to prove a point. But there was no room in the world to be that kind of person anymore.

Sean cut in, obviously trying to smooth the waters as the group awkwardly looked on. Gently he suggested, "Krissy, how about you stay here tonight with Val? I'll go make sure Li is okay and we'll meet up early tomorrow."

She pursed her mouth in annoyance but nodded. Gave her brother a quick kiss on the cheek. Not looking at Daryl, she turned to Carol and spoke. "We should get started on that sign for Sophia. I'm pretty sure I packed Val some markers and pens when we left Boston."

The two women worked quietly. The poster was simple and haphazardly made, but it would do the job just fine. Kristen was unsure of what to say or do whenever alone with Carol now. Reassurance could only last so long before it started sounding and feeling forced. Carol surprised her by speaking first.

"You know, he only tried to get you to stay because he cares. I know you know that."

"I just don't know why he feels like he has the right to control me. Even if he thinks it's for my own good. He's just so gruff sometimes."

"Controlling? Honey, that isn't controlling." Carol's mouth formed a sad, faraway smile. "My husband Ed was controlling. What I could eat, what I could wear, who I could talk to."

Kristen grew quiet, considering.

"From what I can see of Daryl, he's not a man too accustomed to using his words. He shows that he care by what he does." The older woman laid an affectionate hand on Kristen's head as she headed to the RV.

Daryl was on edge. She was pissed at him again. She was infuriating. It seemed like every time he opened his damn mouth or tried to protect her, she'd take offense. He found himself getting annoyed at her for getting annoyed. He tried to channel his energy into something productive. Sitting in the RV, using a fine blade, he sharpened the bolts for his crossbow. Did maintenance on the firearms.

He jumped at the sound of a knock at the door. He answered it to find Val, rubbing her eyes sleepily, a stuffed bear in her arms. "Krissy told me to sleep in here tonight, if it's okay with Mr. Dale, please." Dale was still atop the RV, his binoculars in hand, but Daryl knew he wouldn't mind.

"Yeah, 'course kid." He moved to the side to let the little girl in. Daryl's eyes traveled to the direction of the SUV. Kristen was sat on the ground, wearing black cotton shorts and a Red Sox t-shirt. Gun at her side, sorting through a pile of the kid's clothes.

As he approached her, she spoke without looking up. "I figured it would be safer in the RV. With the Grimes and my brothers not here, it's a less cover for sleep."

"Were you just gonna stay out here alone then?"

"I don't know, it can get pretty crowded in there."

Daryl chewed the inside of his mouth. It felt like there were so many things that they had decided to ignore rather than talk about. "I'm goin' for a walk, gonna check the tree line. Wanna come?"

"Sure." He was pleased to see that she grabbed her gun.

They walked in silence for a while, their ears growing accustomed to the normal noises of the woods. Kristen thought that if there was one positive thing to this entire bleak existence – at least she finally got to experience a bit more nature. A lot more than she had ever expected to, anyways.

She looked at him through the corner of her eye. His expression was serious, his muscles taut from holding the crossbow. She realized that she had never even touched the weapon, despite it's near constant presence. She figured that he probably wouldn't even let her. The thought reminded her of their previous conflict.

"Look," she started with a sigh, "With everything that's going on, it's stupid to be annoyed at each other over something so small. And I'd feel like such an asshole if I turned into some petty drama queen when Carol and Lori are going through so much. I just don't know.."

She faltered for a moment. He stopped walking and gave her his full attention. "It's just that I don't know _why_ you're always telling me what to do. I know I'm not some big survivalist warrior, but I'm not an idiot either."

"I know you ain't an idiot. You just weren't goin' to that farm without me."

"But that's just it, _why?_ What makes you think that you can just decide that for me?"

"Wha' do you mean why? If I remember correctly, it was just days ago that you were climbin' into my bed!"

"Well you can fuck someone without it meaning anything!"

Daryl flinched at the words. He swallowed hard and replied with a gruff, "Oh." He turned from her and started walking quickly ahead. "Best get ya back to camp."

"Shit, Daryl. That's not what I meant. You have to know that."

"All I know is Merle was right about y'all. You think you can just fuck and tease a guy to keep him around, to get what you need. I'm gonna get you back in that RV and then I'm takin' off. I should be out lookin' for my brother, not wasting my time here with little girls."

Her arms tensed up, her heart jumping to her throat. This isn't how she imagined things would go. "Daryl, just stop please. Just talk to me." He kept walking. "Fine. If you don't stop and talk to me right now, I am going to walk out into these woods and you know that I'll never find my way back alone. And I'm going to die."

"You're so fucking dramatic." But he stopped walking.

"And you're so fucking stupid." He raised in brows. "No, Daryl. You are. You think I would have come out here with you just to tell you that I don't give a shit about you? That our…friendship, our sex meant nothing? This whole time I've just been trying to get _you _to tell me something."

"Yeah? And what's that? You want some declaration of undying love? You want me to get down on one knee in the middle of this fucking poxy infested forest?"

"No." Her voice got very small. "I just want some kind of reassurance that you aren't going to just leave. We need you around…I want you around."

He took a deep breath, walked back beside her. "Wha' makes you think that I would?"

"I don't know. At the risk of sounding dramatic again, it's just that in my experience - people always do."

His anger quickly evaporated.

He took her hand in both of his, brushed his thumb over the smooth back of her wrist. His voice softened. "Well, I ain't leavin'. That's the one damn thing you can be sure of." Now he was the one to stumble over his words. "I guess… especially since the CDC,…I've kinda been thinkin' of you like you was my girl or somethin'."

"Oh?" For the first time all day, there was a lightness in her chest.

"Don't go gettin' excited. It ain't a big deal or nothin'. Guess it's just why I feel like I can tell ya what to do."

"Well, I think it's pretty obvious that I don't like being told what to do."

He smirked, "You sure seemed to like bein' bossed around the other night." Even in the dark he could tell that she was blushing.

They started walking in step again. She felt like a small weight had been lifted from her shoulders. "So, we're good?" He seemed much more relaxed now and it was a relief.

"Yah, guess so. I'm gonna keep knowin what's best for ya and you're gonna keep gettin' pissy about it. But you're always gonna do it."

She had to scoff. "Oh yeah? I didn't realize that was what we decided on. So what's best for me now then?"

"If you're sleepin' in that damnned SUV, then I'm sleepin' there with ya."

It was a demand she couldn't even get pissy about.

**AUTHORS NOTE: Hope you all enjoyed the chapter. I was kind of blasé about this one, as it was mostly just a set-up for more stuff to come. I got pretty into writing the dialogue at the end though. Lots and lots of lovely angst. I was thinking perhaps in the future chapters at the end including like little one-shots for the individual main characters, from their lives pre-breakout. I just think maybe it could add a bit to the character development. Especially for my OC siblings, whom will all be playing a bigger role as the story progresses. Anyways, as always – I'd love to know what you think and favs/follows are always greatly appreciated. Not too long till season 4! **


	17. Chapter 17

**MIGHTIEST OF GUNS**

**CHAPTER SEVENTEEN**

"I don't know how you fucking sleep in this thing. If we all die today, it's because you made me stay in this goddamn car."

Kristen hummed to herself sleepily, trying to dislodge her elbow from between his body and the backseat. She smiled at him lazily. "I hadn't realized that I _made_ you sleep in this car. Besides, I think it's a lot more comfortable when you're an eight year old girl." She sat up and stretched her neck from side to side, twisted her spine resulting in a satisfying series of pops.

He cringed at the sound. "Ya have to do that?"

"Really, Dixon? You're totally fine to cut open and shove your hand into the stomach of an undead person, but you turn into a little girl when I crack my back?" Since their walk in the woods the night before, things seemed lighter between them than previously.

She had felt almost like a teenager when they climbed into the back of the SUV together. At one point she started nervously smiling and couldn't stop. When he asked her about it all she could do was laugh, "It's just been a really long time since I was in the back of a car with a boy."

"_Honey, I ain't no boy."_

Nothing had really happened, but it felt nice to sleep pressed against someone warm and solid. She hated to admit, she preferred it to Val kicking her all night. But it didn't stop her from kicking him out of the car just as the sun was rising, so Val wouldn't see that they had spent the night together. Some things never changed.

Daryl hadn't slept a wink. He groaned as he stretched out his limbs, tried to regain feeling. "I just hope however this farm is, it's safe enough to set up the tents. We ain't sleepin' like this again."

She smiled at the 'we.'

Kristen felt so conflicted about the decision to leave the highway. On the one hand, she was so relieved to get Val away from the precarious location, she was eager to reunite with her brothers, make sure they were safe. But every time she looked at Carol or the meager pile of supplies they left with the poster, her heart sank. She felt almost guilty for the safety of her family. The Peletiers and the Grimes had suffered so much, Andrea had lost Amy, Daryl had even lost Merle. It could only be so long before it would be their turn for loss.

The ride to the farm felt strange. With only Val in the SUV with her, the vehicle felt too big, too empty. She didn't like it. The journey was simple enough however, and she was a bit stunned to see the farm running as it was. It was hard to believe that some people had been able to remain in their homes, going about their seemingly normal lives.

She couldn't even begin to imagine the state of the little home they had abandoned. They had been lucky enough to get out before the outbreak had escalated. The populous neighborhood would have to be overrun by now, if anything was even left anymore. If they had bombed Atlanta – what would they do to a city as dense as Boston? She had to not think about it. It didn't matter anymore.

The Greene family was cordial enough, if not a little cold. They eyed up Daryl suspiciously. She had to admit that he was filthy. She didn't know how one man could seemingly attract so much grime. Her own brothers seemed cleaner and better cared for since when they first arrived at the C.D.C. It felt like a blessing to simply be around the two of them and Val as they set up their tents.

In a way it was nice, the mundane domesticity of setting up camp. She chatted with the young Greene women as they showed her where she could do her family's laundry. They even showed her around the kitchen, let her give the group's pots and pans a proper washing. It was especially nice to be around Maggie. Laughing in the kitchen and sharing stories about the group, she almost felt like she was back in Boston with one of her girlfriends. The women on the farm doted over Val, and suspicious as Kristen had been of the place, she was already dreading the prospect of leaving.

Daryl had been eager to get out in the woods. Not only to look for Sophia, but to get his bearings of the new location. The rest of the group had been more concerned with settling in and getting supplies. But he kept thinking of that little girl lost in the woods, kept thinking about her going back to the highway only to find it abandoned. Somebody had to find her. And if it meant him going off alone, so be it.

Kristen hadn't liked the idea of him going off on his own, asked him to wait until the rest of the group was ready to search. But he needed to. Searching for Sophia was something to do, something that gave him a sense of purpose. And the fact that she asked him to wait until Rick or Shane could go with him, only made him want to go more. Not because he was stubborn, but because her concerns for him gave him a bit of a rush. Made him feel as though, if someone was worried about him coming back, then must be good for something.

Good enough to find that little girl.

He felt better with everyone back at the farm. It gave a better vantage point for approaching threats, easier access to resources. Such easy access to resources that he thought nothing about borrowing a horse for the day.

He was in high spirits as he rode along the ridge. It felt good to be on an animal again, it felt like being in control. They had never had the money to own a farm of their own, but he'd spent plenty of his youth working on other people's. It felt kind of like this – being responsible for something, having something depend on you.

It was one of the many ways that he and Merle differed. Merle never seemed to like being responsible for anything.

Looking over the ridge in a nearby stream, he spotted something that looked like a child's doll. He vaguely recognized it from around the group, Sophia's or maybe one of Val's that the little girl had borrowed. He felt a rush of adrenaline. There was no way that Val could have been this far out in the woods, it had to be Sophia. His hopes renewed, he started shouting out for her.

Making his way back up the ridge, he climbed back on the horse, ready to watch for her from along the ledge. If she were here, he'd see her. He rode in quiet concentration for about half an hour.

With only the small hiss of a snack as warning, he suddenly found himself thrown from the animal, tumbling down the ridge. _So much for feeling in control._

He landed in the stream with a sharp pain in his side. He winced as he could feel the blood seeping into his clothes. Reaching around, he swore as he realized that one of his own arrows had pierced his torso. Slowly and disoriented, he rose to standing. He knew it would no good for him to remove the arrow himself. Doing his best to staunch the bleeding, he decided to call the search for now and get back to the farm.

As he climbed the ridge, he started losing strength. His arms could hardly bear his own weight, let alone pull himself up. He muttered a curse under his breath as he felt his arms giving out. Falling back down the ridge, he vision blurred to darkness.

He didn't know how long he was out. But he awoke to find Merle standing above him. Daryl's stomach flipped, before he noticed that this Merle had both hands in place – a hallucination. It didn't stop the specter Merle from seeming ungodly lifelike though.

"Ay, baby brother. What brings you out this farm in the woods. I know you ain't lookin' for your ole pal Merle here."

Daryl's voice was strained and hoarse. "Little girl. Lookin' for a little girl."

"Well where's the rest of your posse. They send you out in the big bad woods alone? You just expected to be their errand boy?"

Daryl's eyelids fluttered, he could feel himself losing consciousness again. The vision of Merle continued. "You still wastin' yo time on that Northern bitch and her brats? You know, if it weren't for that big crossbow of your's, you'd be nothin' to her. You don't think she's back at camp right now, fuckin' that police officer? Probably writhin' around underneath him, thankin' him for bein' her big protector. You don't think they're laughin' at you?"

"Fuck off Merle."

"I'm just lookin' out for ya Darylina. I'm the only one who's ever gonna care 'bout you. You know that."

"You don't know what you're talkin' 'bout Merle. Ya never have."

"Oh, I don't know? I know one thing baby brother. You're gonna die right here. And she ain't even gonna miss you."

Merle's voice faded away to another sound, the growling of a walker. _Ah fuck._ He kicked his legs with as much strength as he could muster, knocking the walker off balance. Taking the opportunity to put some space between them, he grabbed the nearest sharp stick and stabbed it into the walker's eyes.

He hadn't even a chance to catch his breath before the second one came upon him. He raised his bow as it approached but realized with horror that he was out of arrows. Seeing no other real choice, unceremoniously he yanked the arrow from his torso and shot it into the geek's brain.

The sudden rush of pain is overwhelming. He staggers forward as he retrieves the arrow from the walker's skull, unable to distinguish whose blood is whose. Taking a deep, gruff breath, he makes his way back over to the ridge side.

It takes every ounce of strength and willpower to pull himself up. The voice of Merle ringing in his ears, telling him to just give up and die. _She ain't even gonna miss you._ Through some miracle, he makes it to the top, doesn't bother looking around for the horse. He wouldn't climb on top of that animal again if his life depended on it.

The rest of the trek back to the barn was a blur. It felt like his body was moving on instinct and muscle memory alone. He knew he was nearing the end of the woods as he could see light streaming in along the tree line. He stumbled through, onto the land. Slowly making his way across the field, the farmhouse in view.

He could see Rick and Shane running towards him and knew that everything was going to be alright. In the second instant, a bullet grazed his skull and he was on the ground.

Kristen was seated on the back porch soaking dry beans for dinner, watching Beth play with Val, when she heard the shot and ensuing commotion. Jumping up, she knocked over the bowl, sending dried beans spilling across the patio. If there was one walker that needed to be put down, there would likely be others – especially if they were attracted to the sound of the gunfire.

As she ran towards the RV- Andrea stopped her, placing a hand on her shoulder.. "I'm so sorry, Kristen. It was an accident I swear."

Kristen jerked her arm away, "You're sorry? What happened?"

She could hear cursing in that familiar drawl, see Daryl being dragged inside – covered in blood and grime. They made eye contact for an instant before his eyes fluttered shut, his consciousness fading.

"What the hell happened to him?" The panic was building in her chest, her voice rising when nobody responded. "I said what happened!"

Andrea hesitantly stepped forward. "I thought he was a walker…I'm so sorry. I fired at him."

"You thought he was a walker? How closely did you even look, Andrea? None of us better step out of your direct vision I guess, you might go and fucking shoot us too." She was losing her temper and quickly. Rick and Shane stood for a moment watching her, eyes widened. She had always seemed so calm. "What the fuck are you two doing? Get him inside to Hershel for godssake!"

She stormed ahead towards the farmhouse, turning around once to shoot one last glare at Andrea. She refused to leave the room as Hershel treated to his injuries, admonished him when he expressed more concern for his horse than the wounded man in the bed. It reminded her weirdly of taking the kids to the clinic. Of sitting with Liam in the examining room the first time he had to get a booster shot. Sitting with Val the first time she used her inhaler. Now she was sat in a chair by the door, in the middle of Georgia, watching a 36-year-old hunter get his torso stitched up by a veterinarian. Things changed.

She sat there until Hershel had him all cleaned up, deemed that the coast as clear. She brought him a glass of water and a plate of food that went untouched. And then she just sat there, twiddling her fingers around, unsure of what to do.

When he finally came to, she knew he'd be alright. "Never seen ya that pissed."

She was so relieved that he was awake and in usual humor that she could have kissed him. "I _was_ pissed. I am pissed."

"At me?"

"I can't be pissed at you because you just got shot. But from the looks of it, the bullet wasn't the worst of your injuries. I told you not to go alone."

"Damn it, Kristen. Ya want me to apologize for gettin' hurt?

She took a deep breath, realized how annoying she was being. She had just been too frightened, gotten too worked up. She had a hard enough time filtering her thoughts out on a good day.

"No, you're right. I'm sorry." She went quiet, pulling her knees to her chest. She chewed on the bottom of her lip and stared at the floor.

"If yer jus gonna sit there and mope, ya can come sit over here at least."

She took a hesitant seat on the side of the bed, careful not to jostle him. She just looked at him, the shadow of a scowl on her face.

"Damn it woman. This is why I don't deal with your kind. A man lays bleedin' from the head and you still ain't happy with him." He sounded exasperated but there was at least a hint of humor in his tone. He reached over, nudging her knee with his hand. "Hey, come on."

She breathed deeply. "Sorry, I know I'm being horrible. When I hard the gunshot, I immediately thought it had to be Liam or Sean, even though that's irrational in itself. But then when I saw you, I immediately thought you were dead. And I just freaked because I guess I kind of thought that you couldn't die. You're Daryl."

"Well I ain't dead, am I?"

"No thanks to Andrea. I should kill her." Kristen said it with such dramatic venom that he couldn't help from smirking. The fact that she was so angry on his behalf made his chest tight. Maybe it was just the stitches.

"Come on Kris, you know she was only trying to protect the camp."

"Yeah. And I'll be protecting the camp when I slit her throat. Next she'll be shooting Carl and we both know Lori doesn't need to go through that again." She grinned at him wryly. He chuckled and winced when it made his side ache.

She sat in the room with him all night. Brought her dinner in and ate in the side chair. At one point Val came in, asking to be read to and Kristen obliged with his permission. He thought the book was stupid, about witches or some shit. He found himself drifting off to sleep to the sound of her voice, a warmth in the pit of his stomach. His imagination starting wandering. This was the kind of life that most people had, families together happily under one roof, the kind of thing he never thought he'd experience. It had just taken getting shot in the head to happen.

After Daryl fell asleep, Kristen put her finger to her lips- motioned to Val to be quiet as possible as they snuck out. She turned off the lamp and pulled the door closed, leaving it propped open so that he could be heard, in case he should need something in the night.

She tucked Val into bed in the tent. The soft grass beneath the tarp, their blankets and sweaters and coats piled up, it felt like heaven compared to the SUV. She joined her brothers and Dale around the warm stove with a few beers.

"You nurse him back to health?" Dale smiled good-naturedly, a gleam of something in his eye.

"It was all Hershel, Dale. If anything I think I just bugged him."

"Come on now, don't dismiss it. Emotional health is just, if not more, important than our physical. If you find someone that benefits your emotional health, you can't let that slip away." Kristen watched the kindling of the stove thoughtfully.

"What is going on between you two anyways? Should I be worried?" Sean put on the act of being a concerned big brother. "I can still kick his ass."

She grinned at her younger brother. "Come on, Seany. When have I ever given you reason to worry?"

"I don't know, some of the guys you've brought home over the years have been pretty questionable."

"Bullshit." She raised her brows challengingly.

"You're saying you never brought home a guy who was a sleaze?"

"No, I'm saying that I never let you see the real sleazes." She grinned mischievously as Dale and Glen laughed. "If I hadn't been too busy looking after your two sorry asses, maybe I could have had time for a decent love life."

"Come on sis, you're sounding like an old single mom now."

"I practically am! I still remember the first time I was alone watching you. Ma left without giving me any clean diapers, and then when you made a mess of yourself – I didn't know what to do. I put you in a pair of Ma's underwear and just stuffed it with toilet paper. Then when it started leaking out the sides, I just wrapped you in a plastic bag. Ma couldn't stop laughing when she got home."

Across the fire, Glen laughed. "That is disgusting. How old were you?"

Kristen took a sip of her beer, "Seven."

Their smiles faded a bit.

As the group filtered off to bed, Kristen remained behind with her brothers, finishing off the beer. She made a point to put a few aside for Daryl. He'd be pissed if he missed out on precious beer just because he had a head wound.

"I want to go out and follow Daryl's trail tomorrow. If we wait any longer, it could go cold." Liam's face was earnest across the fire.

"Daryl won't be able to go tomorrow, Hershel wants him resting for at least another day."

"That's okay, we can go without him. He taught me a good deal about the tracking and I think I'm pretty good. I think I can find her."

She couldn't keep her brothers from doing things anymore. And as much as she hated the thought about them in the woods, she knew it was something that she had to get over. And soon. And Liam was right, Daryl had made progress by finding that doll. It would be a shame if it was all for nothing.

"You're right, Li. I think it's a good idea. I want to come with you." Liam's brows raised in surprise.

"What, seriously? This isn't just the beer talking?"

She put the bottle down. "No, I mean it. I'll get one of Daryl's big knives, have the gun in case. I need to get over being afraid. And I want to help Carol. Now that we're here, I feel a lot more comfortable leaving Val. The Greenes are good people, Beth would be happy to watch her."

Sean breathed in deeply. "Well, I'm going if you two do."

"In the morning, I'll get Val up and give her breakfast. Then we'll go." She affectionately ruffled both of their heads, before crawling into the tent besides her sister.


	18. Chapter 18

**MIGHTIEST OF GUNS**

**CHAPTER EIGHTEEN**

"Like hell, you're goin'" Daryl sat up in the bed, as much as his stitches would allow. She didn't think that he would be happy with her decision, but she hoped he wouldn't get this excitable – at least not for the sake of his recovery.

"Daryl, I'm not here to ask for your permission. I'm just asking if I can borrow one of your knives." She did her best to keep her tone even, but he could be so damn controlling.

"I ain't givin' you one of my knives. I ain't supportin' this."

"You know what, fine then. I'll just ask someone else."

"You gonna go ask Shane? Bet you think Shane has a nice big knife for you." He knew it was off base but Merle's taunts from the day before were still spinning through his mind.

"Ask Shane? What are you talking about?" She looked on, genuinely perplexed. Of all the men in the group, Shane was her least favorite anyways. He was too much of a 'cop.' She didn't like the way he looked at her family, like their supposed criminal records were written all over their faces.

He sighed resigned. "Nothin.' Go ahead, take the big one. With the rust colored handle."

She reached into his pack and pulled out his rolled case of knives. "Wow, I never knew you had so many." She smiled at him. "Can I take your crossbow too?"

He clearly wasn't in the mood for jokes. "No, you can't. I can't believe you're even goin.'"

"You have to get over that Daryl. It's sweet and chivalrous and all that shit, but it's just not practical. You aren't always going to be there, I have to get better at doing this stuff on my own."

He swallowed hard. She did have a point.

"Besides, I'm going to be with Sean and Liam. If you can't trust me with my own two brothers then you might as well just kill me and mount my head on your wall."

He couldn't help from smirking. "I can think of somethin' else of your's that I'd like to mount, sweetheart."

"Oh my god, you are such a pervert. I can't believe I was worried about you dying yesterday." But she laughed as she gently sat on the bed beside him. "How do you feel today anyways?"

He reached over and gently brushed a strand of hair from her face. "I'd feel better if you were stayin' here, but I get it. You wanna find that little girl."

"It's not only that. I have to get stronger, I have to be braver. I don't want to turn into one of those women that can only cower. I don't want to end up being a burden." She leaned in closer to him on the bed and yawned. "This bed is pretty nice though. You can use my tent to rest in today if Hershel tries to kick you out. Val might bug you though. I think she likes you."

He took her hand and turned it over in his. They seemed so small to him.

He was being very quiet.

She prodded him gently. "What are you thinking?"

"This is weird, you sittin' here with me." He continued tracing his fingers over the lines of her palm. For some reason he had always liked her hands.

She gave him a gentle smile. "This the part where you break up with me? Too scared of _the commitment?_"

Why did she have to turn every serious thing into a joke? He couldn't remember the last time he'd had someone to just sit there with like this. He already struggled enough with verbalizing things, especially when she wouldn't listen.

The annoyance must have been clear on his face because in the next moment she was closing her hand around his. "It is weird. But I think it's really nice."

For a second she thought that he was going to kiss her, but instead he reached across her for the knife. He spent the next ten minutes demonstrating the best technique. That she should stick the blade in and twist. Explained that she needs just the right amount of force – enough to get the blade through the brain, but too hard that she couldn't easily pull it back out. She thought back to what Carol said. Daryl showed the way he felt through his actions.

After she had stabbed an invisible walker for him for the hundredth time, she sheathed the weapon and told him it was time to go. For a second he looked like a pouting child. She couldn't help but smile. "I'll see you later. Make sure you get enough rest today."

"Yeah. Make sure you get home safe. Stick close to your brothers."

"I will, I promise." She leaned in and laid a soft kiss on his cheek. As she was pulling back, he surprised her. Taking her face in his hands, he kissed her deeply. She leaned into him and for a split second thought about staying. When he pulled away all he said was, "Be careful," before rolling over to try and get some more sleep.

Her brothers were already waiting for her when she emerged outside. Sean jokingly rolled his eyes. "That took forever. Couldn't leave your Prince Charming?"

"Oh, shut up." But she was smiling. She still felt kind of warm inside. Daryl was always so reserved and kind of aloof. Whenever he expressed any kind of affection like that, it always caught her off guard. She had a feeling that it would be a good day.

And for a while, it was. Liam was able to pick up Daryl's trail with a little effort. Obviously, he was nowhere near as skilled as the hunter. His tracking was lengthy and laborious, but he seemed to know what he was doing well enough. It was nice to spend the day out with her brothers, knowing that Val was safely cared for back at the farm. Not to mention that the day's weather was glorious. For the first time in a long while, Kristen could imagine having some semblance of a happy and normal life again.

If only they could find Sophia.

When they came to the riverbed, Sean suggested that they split up. Kristen hesitated, remembering her promise to Daryl to stick close together. But the area was clear enough that she knew she'd be able to keep a close view of them. If they got into any trouble, they'd only be a few seconds away. Besides, they'd be able to cover a lot more ground in the search for Sophia.

So with that in mind, and with very strict instructions for her brothers not to stray too far, they went in different directions from the location of the doll. Kristen tread carefully. She wasn't sure what to look for in terms of tracking, but she did know what to look for in terms of little girls. She could only imagine how Sophia would be feeling, what her course of action might be. She called out for the girl in a clear voice.

After about a half an hour of fruitless searching had passed, she began to make her way back to the riverbed to reconvene with her brothers. Along the way, she ran across her first walker. The fear bubbled up instantly and her body's fight or flight mode kicked in.

She reminded herself of the dozens and dozens that Daryl and Rick had killed. If she couldn't handle taking down one by herself, then she didn't deserve to live anyways. She gripped the knife tightly and approached the creature herself, meeting it half way. It growled and reached for her, but it was slow and stupid. Keeping a close watch on its mouth and hands, she jerked the blade towards its eyes, just like Daryl showed. It went in cleanly enough and the life went from its eyes. It took a bit more force to pull the knife out than it probably should have, but she would get better.

She felt a small rush of adrenaline. That hadn't been so bad. Then she heard another and another. Coming towards her was a mob of three or four. All of the confidence that she had just felt evaporated. Her mind went to her gun, if she could get a few decent shots – she'd be fine. But the sound would only serve to alert more of them to her presence. She was slowly backing up and debating what to do, when the decision was made for her.

A series of gunshots fired from behind her back, hitting the walkers cleanly through their skulls. She turned around expecting to see Liam and Sean, expecting to thank them. Instead she was met with strangers. A group of four men, of varying ages and ethnicities. The youngest had to be Liam's age.

She was instantly uneasy, her grip on the knife tightening. She said nothing, her eyes wide with suspicion. A dark haired man stepped forward, raising his hands in a sign of apparent peace. "Hey, relax. We ain't gonna hurt you. In fact, it looks to me like we just saved you." His accent was northern. For a moment it made her feel at home, but it did little to quell her anxiety.

She found herself slowly backing away from them, still not saying anything.

"That how you say thank you?" He laughed but there was something strangely menacing about it.

"I'm sorry, thank you." She was guarded and rigid.

"Nah, I'm just messin' with ya. I understand how it is. Can't be too careful can we? Especially a girl like you. How are you possibly getting by, you pretty thing? You have a group nearby?"

She didn't know what to say. On the one hand, she didn't want to lead anyone to the location of the farm. On the other hand, she didn't want them to think she was alone and completely vulnerable. So she didn't say anything.

"I'm gonna take that as you don't. You know, it's not safe here. We wouldn't be gentlemen if we left you here alone."

Her fear spiked.

"I'm fine, thank you. Wouldn't real gentlemen respect a lady's wish to be left alone?"

He laughed at her, the sound empty and hollow. "I like you. The way I see it is, either you can go ahead and come with us where we'll take good care of you. _Or_ we'll stick with you and follow you back to whatever nice little camp you have set up. You know, just to make sure you get back there safe. Wouldn't want anything to happen to you, now would you?"

She could feel the blood rushing through her ears. She looked the group over, taking them in one by one. They were all large and they were all heavily armed. She'd be shot before she even had her gun out – assuming she could even land a clean shot on one of them. She could try and run. She read once that your chances of being fatally shot as a moving target were pretty slim. She didn't know how that added up when you took four shooters into account though.

She was still frozen in place when Sean burst in through the forest, his gun drawn. Within seconds, the four men had their weapons up. Two aimed on Sean, two fixed on her. The dark haired man chuckled, as though it were a fun development.

"So, looks like we found a part of your group!" He motioned for her to walk over to him. "Come here sweetheart." When she didn't come, the man beside him cocked his gun at Sean. "Let me rephrase that, come here sweetheart or we're gonna shoot your friend here. And regardless, he's gonna die because you're outnumbered."

She looked at Sean worryingly and stepped up the man. Immediately his arm was around her, his gun to her temple. She was focusing all of her energy on trying not to tremble.

"Okay, good girl. So here is what we're gonna do. She's gonna come with us. And if you cooperate, you ain't gonna die. Make sense?"

"You're not fucking taking her anywhere." Sean spoke with venom but it was obvious in his eyes that he knew they were at a severe disadvantage. Kristen could only shake her head at him devastatingly.

"I get it, you're being a brave kid. Put the gun down." The man's voice was so calm, it was disconcerting. When Sean didn't move, the man pushed his gun into Kristen's temple harder, his finger precariously resting on the trigger. This time he shouted, "Put the gun down or I'm blowing her fucking brains out." Kristen couldn't control her fear, the tears flowed freely.

She was suddenly hit with an image of Daryl when they first met. When she asked him what he'd have her do if he got bit and he replied that he'd save her the trouble of having to decide – he'd just shoot himself. So she decided to save Sean the trouble.

"Seany, put the gun down, please. I'm going to go with them…No, don't say anything. Just put the gun down, turn around, and just start walking. And don't stop."

The dark haired man smiled, "See, I knew she was a smart one. Do what the pretty lady says and we won't have to shoot you. Either way, she's coming with us." The man tightened his grip around her arm, started to drag her in the other direction. Sean was still stood there in shock, his gun on the ground in front of him.

In frantic tears, she turned and called to him, "Seany, I love you. Please, please take care of yourself. Please, tell them the same. And tell them I'm sorry."

The dark haired man tightened his grip on her arm painfully. "Them? I thought you said you didn't have a group. You're a little liar." She was being dragged deeper and deeper into the forest. She kept trying to turn her head to get a glimpse of Sean, to make sure that he was okay, but in an instant he was gone.

She was in a state of shock. She couldn't believe or understand why this was happening. She couldn't even find the words to ask who they were or where they were going. Why they wanted her. Her thoughts flew from Sean to Liam to Val..to Daryl and she couldn't stop herself from sobbing. What was Sean going to say to Liam when they met up? What were they going to tell Val when they got home? And Daryl…

She didn't think that things could get any worse as they walked for what felt like hours. Until they reached a road. As long as they were in the forest, she had held onto some forlorn hope that she might still be able to get home. But she knew if they got her in a vehicle, if they drove her away – she'd never see her family or friends again.

She knew what was coming when she saw them pop open the trunk and she was seized by a great sense of desperation. The largest man grabbed her and began to push her into the small compartment. As if suddenly remember the pistol in the waist band of her jeans, she reached behind and grabbed it, shot almost aimlessly. The bullet whizzed past him, denting the hood of the trunk.

"You little sneaky bitch." The man knocked the gun out of her hand in one swift motion. Lifting his hand again, he back slapped her so hard her ears rang. Her whimper of pain only seemed to drive his anger further. "Dumb sluts, think they can get away with everything." He grabbed her by the hair and neck, slammed her face into the car's tail light. She blacked out for a few seconds, only to find herself curled up in a ball on the pavement, him lifting his legs to kick her. She cried out in pain each time his foot made contact with her ribs. His voice was cruel, "Say you're sorry, you stupid bitch."

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" She could hardly breathe, a combination of the pure terror and the force of his kicks on her abdomen. He lifted his leg again, perhaps one for good measure, when the dark haired man stopped him.

"Dave, that's enough. Don't forget, we want them looking pretty."

The dark haired man helped her up gingerly. He shut the trunk and instead brought her around to the backseat of the van. "I think someone learned enough of a lesson for now. I think we can trust you to be good if we let you sit in the back, right sweetheart?" She could only shake in response. He pushed her into the car, and locked the door behind her.

With one last desperate glance into the woods, she could have sworn she saw Liam.

Liam sprinted faster than he'd ever ran before. He had been trying to find his siblings again when he heard the confrontation by the riverbed. He had debated joining in on the fray, but could see no positive outcome from doing so. So he stayed hidden in the cover of the forest, getting a clear view of the direction they traveled. He had hoped that they were just taking her to a nearby camp – one that they could easily trek to with reinforcements.

His heart had sunk when he saw them reach a vehicle. But that road could only go so far. And these were pretty random woods to be scouting if you weren't based locally. As devastated and worried as he was, Liam couldn't help thinking rationally. He was already forming plans and possible scenarios in his mind. They'd come back out. They'd find his sister. They had to. The alternative…he couldn't think of the alternative to that.

He returned to find Sean sitting along the riverbank, his head in his hands, his shock evident.

"What the fuck are we going to do? How the fuck did that happen?" The older boy was deeply shook up.

"We were outnumbered. They had better weapons, more experience. They had leverage over us."

"Krissy is as good as fucking dead, Li. We are never going to see her again. I…How…"

"I followed them all the way through the woods, I know what road they took her on. We'll go back and get the others, come right back out. We'll get her."

Sean raised his eyes miserably, "What will we even tell them?"

The two young men sprinted back to the farm, their heads hung low. It was immediately evident that something was wrong. Looking through his binoculars on top of the RV, Dale swore when he saw only the two of them.

Daryl had been sat nearby in a lawn chair, trying to read the boring book Andrea had brought him in his recovery. When he heard Dale cry out, he assumed it was a walker and reached for his crossbow. When he saw only Sean and Liam approaching, his stomach dropped.

He narrowed his eyes at them, his anger building. "Where is she?"

Sean had tears in his eyes at this point, Liam stood beside him – an empty hard shell.

"There was this group of men, there were so many of them. They had guns to both our heads, said if she didn't go with them…"

"Where the fuck did they go?" Every muscle in his body had tensed up.

This time it was Liam who spoke. "I tracked them through the length of the woods. They came to a road and forced her in a car. I saw her try to shoot one of them." He lowered his face in apparent shame, "Then the one beat her up pretty badly. I didn't even do anything."

Daryl's blood was boiling. "How the fuck could you let them get her in a car, let alone even touch her?" He kicked the nearest tent, knocking the entire setting over. His hands reached up, pulling at his hair in frustration. "I knew I shouldn't fuckin' let her go with y'all." He pointed at Liam. "We're goin' back out, right now. And you're takin' me back to that road. Fuckin'…" His voice just trailed off into incoherent rage.

The one time she didn't listen.

**Authors note: Ahh what a stressful chapter to write! Hope you all enjoyed it. xx**


	19. Chapter 19

**MIGHTIEST OF GUNS**

**CHAPTER NINETEEN**

With each rotation of the car's tires, Kristen could feel herself being dragged farther and farther away from the life she knew. Despite the fear that bubbled just beneath the surface, she could already feel herself resigning to whatever her inevitable fate was. Her family and the group were too far out of her reach, what difference did it make what happened to her now? All she felt was weary and worn.

One by one, the faces of her family flashed through her mind. Sean and Liam would have had to make it back to the farm by now. She could only imagine the state that they had to be in.

Sean would no doubt hold himself responsible for what happened. She could only hope that he could reel in his emotions enough to be stable and supportive for the others. She could only hope that he wouldn't do something stupid.

Liam would try and maintain a calm and stoic façade. He always pretended to be less sentimental about things than he really was. At this very moment, he was probably mentally making a list of things that needed to be done, responsibilities that he would have to take over – but the automatic mental processes would only be an attempt to distract himself from his own feelings. She knew that Liam would probably take things a good deal harder even than his older brother. Liam who used to chastise her for forgetting to wear her seatbelt or working too many shifts in a row. Always worried about her wellbeing.

And then there was Val. She couldn't bring herself to think of the little girl. Sean and Liam would be alright, she knew. But her little sister? Val had never known anyone but her. She wouldn't eat her vegetables, take her medicine, calm down doing an episode – for anyone but her. She had worked so hard to shield her little sister from the horrors of the world, never wanted her to think that her life was anything but normal. What was Val going to do now? When without warning, Kristen just didn't come home? She suddenly wanted to throw up.

Her only solace at this point was the group. She knew that things were tense with the Greenes, but she silently prayed that the group would be allowed to remain at the farm. She wanted her lasting image of Val to be one of her on the back porch, breathing in the fresh air and laughing with Carl and Beth. Hopefully Sophia.

Val still had her brothers. And if God forbid, something should happen to them, she would still be cared for. She suddenly wanted to cry with joy that they had taken the plunge and followed those strangers to the quarry. She knew Rick would never abandon the child, not even Shane would. And there was Carol and Dale and T-Dog.

And…Daryl.

She had been so preoccupied thinking of her family, that she momentarily forgot that her disappearance would affect him as well. He had only just begun to come out of his shell, to divulge a hint of his thoughts and feelings. She sometimes felt that being with him was like being an excavator at some grand archeological dig. Slowly and meticulously chipping through layers, always aware of the evidence of damage, always in awe of the beauty beneath it. She mourned not only that she would miss him, but that she would miss out on all the things that she had yet to discover about him.

She could picture him now at the camp, those last fleeting moments before he realized her fate. The sudden and volatile change in his demeanor when Sean and Liam would come back without her.

He'd be enraged.

She wanted to smile at the image; he always seemed to be angry with her about something. She could tell why people found him so intimidating – but he was all bark and no bite when it came to her. (Well maybe just the right amount of bite.) She thought that maybe anger was the only emotion he was truly comfortable with expressing himself in. But as long as he kept expressing himself to her, she was okay with that.

And in a way, she loved when he was angry. On more than one occasion, she found herself purposefully trying to rile him up. She loved the way his eyes would narrow and his voice would go down an octave. The way he'd sometimes start speaking before he knew what he was going to say, his words coming out in an incoherent mash up, but always honing their way into a sharp retort. Whenever they argued, she'd feel this excited energy in the pit of her stomach. Like she'd finally met her match. And in the end, she always felt like they'd both won.

Who knows, maybe she just annoyed him. Maybe he wouldn't even notice that she wasn't coming back. And despite everything, the thought of that still made her profoundly sad.

* * *

"We aren't sending any of the women out on runs anymore. If this kind of thing is going on so near to the farm, it's just not safe." Rick had been deeply shaken up by the day's events.

Everyone had. The Greene family especially seemed to be caught off guard. Their existence on the farm had thus far been a pretty tranquil one. They weren't even convinced of the dangers of the walkers yet – as the discovery of their barn had proved – they couldn't begin to imagine the danger that other people presented.

"Rick, you can't just force the women to stay back on the farm. If we feel comfortable going on then we have every right to. I'm not going to let another threat keep me trapped." Andrea seemed to be alone in her bravery. The other women seemed more than happy to remain at the farm. "Besides, if we're going to go and look for her, I'd like to help."

Daryl had to respect her for that at least, even if she had shot him.

Shane shook his head. "No, we need to wait and talk this through. People keep on leaving the farm and coming back either injured or not at all. And now that we know there are walkers in that damn barn, we have plenty of important things to deal with here."

Daryl felt his blood boil. "Wha, so you're just gonna leave her out there? 'Cause you're worried about a few walkers in that barn? I don't give a damn about this place. Burn that fuckin' barn to the ground and let's go."

Rick did his best to calm him down. "Now Daryl, let's talk about this. We're just as upset about this as you are. We're going to do everything we can…"

"Like hell you are! Every second we're standin' here talkin' is time wasted. Y'all wanna just shoot the shit about Hershel's damn walker fetish when we don't even know what's happenin' to her!"

"Daryl, look I'm sorry friend." Shane put on his best nice cop routine, "But going after her just isn't feasible. The second they hit that road, we have no idea where or why. They could be halfway to Savannah by now."

"So you're just gonna leave that little girl in there without the only mama she's ever known?" Since her brother's return, Val had spent the day in the Greene's living room, crying to Carol.

"I know it's not fair. We've all lost people though. We just have to move on and do what needs to be done. We could really use you to help take care of that barn."

"Fuck y'all. You make out like this is some important group, but the second someone gets in trouble, it's like they never mattered. Don't think I don't notice that none of y'all seem to care about Sophia no more. For all we know, she and Kristen could be in the same damn place."

"Daryl, it's almost dark. You can't be going out now on some wild goose chase. We'll do everything we can to find her, I promise. But right now, all of us are in danger with those walkers in the barn. You think she'd want you to go and look for her, leave her babysister right next to all that."

Daryl clenched his jaw and took a deep breath. He hated that Rick was partially right. "Then we should fuckin' take care of those bastards now."

"First thing in the morning. Let me talk to Hershel first. If they took her alive, chances are they mean to keep her alive. And unless they have some magical supply of gasoline that we don't, they couldn't have taken her very far in one night."

Daryl swore under his breath, made his way to his tent. He'd had enough of these fucking people. He was pissed at everyone, pissed at her brothers for not speaking up more for her. Hell, he was still pissed at them for letting this happen in the first place.

He knew it was futile, but tried to sleep anyways. Every time he closed his eyes, he'd imagine a million different horrible scenarios. The abuse from his own past, but her in his place. He thought back to things Merle said during his military days. He'd hear stories of countries in wartime, selling women and kids into sexual slavery, human trafficking.

He thought he was going to be sick.

He grabbed his bolts and his knives, spent the night sitting by the fireside sharpening them. Kristen's brothers were already there but the three of them didn't speak a word.

In hindsight, Daryl would feel almost ashamed of how he handled the barn. He didn't like the idea of putting himself in league with Shane, but he was as eager as the former cop to get that barn emptied out – even if it meant disrespecting their host.

When Sophia came out and Carol collapsed in a heap on the ground, he heard the horrified cries of Carl and Val- he felt like the smallest man alive. But the horrors of the discovery only made him more eager for them to leave and find Kristen. He had put his everything into looking for that little girl and clearly he failed. He couldn't let that happen this time.

He was annoyed when Rick and Glen made the decision to go after Hershel, but Rick promised that he'd keep his eyes and ears open along the way. Daryl just had to hope that maybe they'd get lucky.

His own search party armed themselves and headed off down the road in the SUV. Liam was confident that he could direct them via road to the spot where the car had been. From there, they'd just have to drive on.

* * *

Kristen didn't know what to expect when the car pulled to a stop. She had done her best to calculate how long the ride had lasted, but the clock on the dashboard was blank. It didn't make much difference; the ride had felt like an eternity and an instant all at once. With each second she dreaded traveling farther yet at the same time, she wished the car ride would never end. She didn't want to know what was going to be on the other side.

The men hadn't spoken to her for the length of the ride, hadn't even acknowledged her presence. They discussed seemingly mundane things amongst each other: supply levels, the weather, even how much they missed football season. Like it was the most natural thing in the world for them to have a bloodied captive in the backseat.

She did her best to take stock of her injuries. Her head felt fuzzy and kind of tender to the touch. It was difficult to see out of her right eye, the socket must be swelling from where he slammed her into the car. She had never been beaten like that before, never experienced disrespect like that before. It infuriated her, but also terrified her as she realized that there was nothing she could do about it.

When the car pulled to a stop and the men exited, she sat immobile. For a second, she wondered if she should try and make a mad dash for it. But as she moved in the seat, she was overcome with a wave of horrible nausea. The next thing she knew, the teenager was dragging her from the car and she was vomiting all over his shoes.

She was afraid that she'd face repercussions, but the dark haired man (who appeared to be their leader) only laughed. "Damn it, Davey. Looks like you might have given the poor thing a concussion. What did I tell ya about not damaging the merchandise?"

Kristen was still doubled over and gagging when he approached her. She simultaneously flinched and winced when he gently touched her cheek. "You'll be alright. You just might not want to sleep for a while, sweetheart. You are a pretty thing though. Tell me, where you from?"

She didn't say anything, but let her eyes travel along the length of the camp. She had expected something a lot grander, a lot more intimidating. This place was nothing compared to the farm – a few tents, a fire, maybe a dozen men.

"I asked you a question." The man touched her cheek again, this time with added pressure. She took in a harsh intake of breath at the pain.

"Boston." Her voice was hoarse and dry. His eyes lit up at her answer.

"Boston! Finally, another Northerner. Was getting sick of all these Georgia Peaches. Though let me tell you, most of these girls I've met, not as sweet as I expected. Nothing like the ladies back home in Philly though, let me tell you. Well, enough chitchat – let's get you settled in."

Getting "settled in" involved being led to the edge of the camp and rather unceremoniously searched for any hidden weapons. Kristen's cheeks burned with rage as male hands groped up and down her thighs and felt between her breasts, supposedly feeling for any stashed knives. She knew there was no legitimate reason for them to be quite so thorough in their search though.

After that violation, she was taken to the center of the camp where another young woman on the ground, her arms and legs bound.

"Look lady, brought ya another new friend. Hopefully the gossips good enough to keep ya entertained through the night. Now I'm gonna be right back with her, just gotta finish up the tour."

He twisted her arms behind her back painfully and bound them with a length of coarse twine. The fibers rubbed at her skin uncomfortably. It was hard to believe that only hours before, Daryl had been rubbing his fingers over those same wrists. She should have stayed with him when she had the chance.

After he was clearly satisfied with his tying job, he roughly led her to the perimeter of the camp. For the first time she noticed them. Walkers. Each had a leash around its neck with about fifteen feet of rope attached to a tree. They surrounded the entire encampment.

"Now, we had a few girls who thought it wise to just crawl outta camp. Don't know what they were thinking. Maybe thought they'd find a sharp rock or something. On foot sure, you could get past these bad boys easily enough. But when I've got your pretty little hands and feet all tied up like that, there's no way you'd move fast enough."

Her stomach dropped.

Pushing her in front of him, her arms tight in his grip, he forced her closer to the tethered walker. "Come on baby, don't be shy. Don't you wanna get better acquainted with the nice biter here?" The creature quickly made note of their presence and shuffled over towards them. The man kept forcing her forward until she was just out of the reach of the walker. For an instant, she was sure that the rope was about to snap.

He twisted her arm painfully and roughly as his other hand found her neck. "So, you're gonna be a good girl right? Gonna do what we tell you?" His hand jerked her neck towards him, forcing her to look him in the eye.

The only expression she could manage was close to a snarl.

He chuckled. "What? Don't like me? That's okay, you won't be here long. A bit longer than I'd like, but we're gonna have to let that face of your's heal up a bit first. _He_ seems to like your face just fine though." He grinned wickedly as he pushed her closer to the walker. The creature's fingertips just now brushing her skin.

"Come on baby girl, how about a kiss for me?"

Disgusted, she looked at him incredulously. He merely smiled, jerked her body forward as though he were about to release her to the walker.

"I'm telling you, you have to choose. You can either kiss him or me. And it looks like he won't be as nice to you."

Her hatred and shame building, she turned and kissed him quickly, wishing that she could will herself to vomit again.

* * *

Daryl felt like they had been driving around in circles for hours. His frustration was growing and he knew that he was taking it out on the other passengers in the car, but he couldn't control himself.

For the hundredth time, he questioned Liam if he was sure that he'd led them to the right spot. A few days ago he thought the kid was going to be the next Daryl Dixon. Today, he had himself convinced that the kid couldn't tell pavement from dirt.

Before long it started growing dark, Shane was adamant that they needed to be back at the camp by nightfall, especially if Rick and Glen were still off looking for Hershel. Daryl swore to himself and didn't say a word to anyone the rest of the drive home.

* * *

"See, that wasn't so bad." The dark haired man grinned smugly at her before dragging her back to the center of the compound. He shoved her unceremoniously on the ground beside the other prisoner and called out to one of his men.

"Eh, Randall! Get over here and bind her feet for me! If we're gonna do that supply run tonight, we'll have to book it."

"Sure thing, Tony." The teenager that she had vomited on came over and roughly looped the coarse twine around her ankles. He yanked the knots grinning maliciously, causing the rough material to dig into her skin. She wasn't sure if it was payback for her being sick on him, or if he was just an asshole.

Now bound on the ground, she was largely forgotten by her captors. They set to work loading up their cars and taking stock of their weapons. They seemed so similar to her own people before heading off on a run that it left her feeling unsettled. It wasn't long before their cars were pulling away again.

She looked around the camp and counted only three men remaining, presumably on guard duty. The thought of escape crossed her mind again. Maybe if she could just loosen the ropes, maybe if she was quiet enough, quick enough. She struggled to move, finding it near impossible to maneuver within the confines of the bindings.

Her fellow prisoner addressed her for the first time. "It's better if you don't draw attention to yourself." She nodded towards the guard who had glanced over, hearing Kristen's movement. "You don't want them to get any funny ideas in their heads of better ways to occupy your time."

She stopped moving around at once. Turning her head, she got her first good look at the woman beside her. She was tall and toned, with dark skin and long braids. Her expression was stoic, serious. Kristen's first impression was that the woman before her was someone who could take care of herself.

The woman looked her over, taking in her swollen face and quickly blackening eye. "You put up a fight when they took you." It wasn't posed as a question. The woman nodded at her slowly, a small show of respect. "I'm Michonne."

"Kristen." She nodded in greeting, lowered her voice. "Do you know what exactly we're doing here?"

Michonne took in a shallow and aggravated breath. "Fort Benning."

"Fort Benning? What are they trying to help us?" Fort Benning had been their plan all along after the C.D.C. fell through.

"Depends on how you define the world help." Michonne clenched her jaw before continuing. "From what I've gathered, Benning ain't the place it was before. Whatever's left of the military there has gone rogue, corrupt."

"What does that have to do with us?" A part of Kristen knew the answer before she even finished the question.

"Us? We're a trade. I'm not sure what the current exchange rate is, but I imagine it's something along the lines of one round of ammunition for every one warm female body."

This time Kristen didn't have to will herself to be sick. Turning away from Michonne, her body convulsed in nausea. Maybe a blessing in disguise, she and no food left in her stomach and only dry-heaved.

Michonne was tactful enough to ignore this.

"Lucky for us, you went and got your head busted in. Your face is too jacked up for them to make the trip and risk you getting rejected. That buys us some more time." She glanced surreptitiously at the armed man. "Tonight, when the guards aren't looking, try and smash your face some more against the ground. Make it look worse."

Kristen could only scoff, assuming the woman was kidding.

The woman looked at her, straight faced. "I'm serious."

* * *

Back at the farm, Daryl sat alone in his tent stewing.

He was being selfish. Her family had to be suffering more than he was. He should be trying to do something to comfort them. Hell, even Carol was still going through a lot of shit.

But he couldn't shake off the way he felt. The first time he saw a chance at a good thing. First time he didn't fuck it up completely.

And it's all just literally taken. He thought he could cry, but he was too damn angry. He was angry at her brothers for not looking after her better. He was angry at her for going off in the first place, not understanding the risks. He was angry at himself for not having the guts to pull her down on that bed with him and telling her that she wasn't going anywhere. Of not taking her again then and there, gunshot wounds and all. If only he'd had that fucking whiskey in his system then.

He was angry with every person here for not acting like what had happened was the single worst event of their lives.

He jerked his head up at the sound of a vehicle. It had to be Rick and Glen back with Hershel. He rushed outside, secretly hopeful for news of Kristen. When he saw the fourth body in the car, his pulse quickened.

Everyone gathered around to get a good look at the blindfolded teenager.

Sean stepped forward and through the car window, grabbed the kid by the neck.

"That son of a bitch."

* * *

**Authors Note: Thanks so much for the reviews/follows/favs, every single one is so greatly appreciated. Obviously jumped around a bit/skirted over some plotlines from the series – but if you don't do that, what's the point of fan fiction?! So excited to introduce Michonne into the story, she's my all time favorite on the show. Anyways, hope you all enjoyed this chapter and let me know what you think! Hope to have the next update up by Sunday night. **** xx**


	20. Chapter 20

**MIGHTIEST OF GUNS**

**CHAPTER TWENTY**

The night had been long and uncomfortable. Kristen had taken Michonne's advice, done her best to gingerly grind her bruised face into the ground. Each time she did it, Michonne whispered encouragingly. _You're buying us more time._ As excruciating as the pain had been, it was outweighed by the glimmer of hope brought on. If Michonne just needs more time, then she must have some kind of plan in mind.

Her head was pounding, her vision coming in and out of focus. She would have been more concerned if she hadn't watched her brothers survive at least half a dozen concussions throughout their lifetime. She'd just have to wait it out until the pain and dizzying side effects subsided. Luckily, it wasn't too difficult to stay awake. It was impossible to find a restful state between the hard ground and the bindings. She longed for use of her hands, if only to brush the dirt and gravel that had irritatingly lodged in the wound below her eye.

As Kristen was distracted with her injuries, Michonne was awake and alert for the return of the scavenging group. Judging by the position of the moon, it had to be at least midnight and there was still no sign of them. Kristen secretly hoped that they had made the mistake of trying to take someone stronger than she was. Someone who would be brave enough to pull the trigger (and skillfully) when they had the chance.

It was obvious that the remaining men were getting anxious. Kristen and Michonne could hear them debating about whether or not to go looking for the others. Despite the threat of walkers, it wasn't normal for a group of armed men to just leave on a routine run and not return. Even if walkers had killed the group of scavengers, it was still in the best interest of the men left behind to retrieve their weapons and ammunition. Kristen and Michonne did their best to feign sleep and disinterest, craning their necks to try and listen to their guard's conversation.

Of the three men remaining, none of them wanted to be the only one to go into town and none of them wanted to be the only one left at the camp. They were at an impasse.

Kristen knew that their only chance of escape rested on the number of their captors dwindling.

* * *

Daryl's fist made contact with the teenager's face, creating a disturbingly satisfying crunch. The boy spit out a mouthful of blood, mucus, and teeth.

Daryl had pulled Randall into the barn with the intention of questioning him, but he was finding it almost difficult to focus. His desire to injure the kid was so overwhelming that it scared him, himself. Despite his appearance, Daryl had never been overly violent. If the situation arose, he could easily step into the role of aggressor, but he never took any real pleasure from it.

Until now.

He found that he could barely look at the kid without fantasizing about tearing him limb from limb. He wanted to make the kid cry and plead. Know that everything he ever knew or wanted was going to be taken away. He wanted to make him feel exactly how Kristen must have.

"I ain't gonna ask you again." Daryl's hand curled into another fist as Randall struggled to lift himself from the ground.

"I don't know where they are, honestly. We move around so much."

"Bullshit. You think I'm fuckin' stupid? Like the rest of your people would up and leave while y'all were out on a run? Tell me, what were y'all hopin' to find?" He kicked the teenager in the ribs. Encouragement to answer the question honestly.

Randall's voice was strained from the impact. "Supplies…we needed some food and medicine."

"Supplies? Ya sure y'all weren't out there lookin' for some more girls to snatch? Bastards like y'all, who'd hurt a women, y'all don't even deserve to breathe."

"We weren't hurting anyone, I swear…I swear!"

"Yeah? Well I'm gonna hafta beg to differ." Daryl made a show of pulling out his sharpest knife, held it to the scared teenager's throat. "Now, this is your last chance. You're gonna tell me why and where y'all took her."

Fear flashed behind Randall's eyes before it was replaced by something much more sinister. Despite being bruised and bloodied, he smiled at Daryl smugly. "You ain't gonna kill me. We both know it. Because if you kill me, then you'll have no idea about where she's gone. No way of ever finding out."

Daryl's lips curled into an expression of disgust, his fingers twitched. He knew that he couldn't kill Randall if he hoped to find Kristen, but he also didn't know if he could stop himself from doing it anyways.

His blood boiled when Randall spoke again. "She your girl? That why you're so bent outta shape? I mean, I can see why, she's a pretty little thing." The boy smirked maliciously. "Well, she was a hell of a lot prettier before Dave smashed her eye socket in. But don't worry man, I'm sure somebody will still _take_ her."

Daryl's vision went red. Suddenly, he didn't know what he was doing anymore. He was kicking and bashing Randall so violently, that for a moment – he didn't even know if the boy were still conscious. _He would have never helped me anyways._

It wasn't until Randall began pleading for the brutal beating to end, that Daryl even knew for sure that he was still alive. His voice was pathetic, all the bravado fading. "I'm sorry…I'm sorry…didn't have a choice."

"What do you mean ya didn't have a choice?"

"Our group. We were in real bad shape…no food..no weapons. Tony got to talking to some guys from Fort Benning."

"Fort Benning?"

Randall managed the smallest of nods. "The remaining men there. They've been…taking in women…in exchange for food and guns."

In the next instant, Daryl had Randall by the throat – lifting him clear off the ground. "Is that where Kristen is?"

"I don't know man! I mean, we weren't taking her yet when we left on the run. We was hoping to find another girl or two first. Make the trip more worthwhile, ya know?"

Daryl dropped him roughly. "All I know is, if you don't lead me to her today..I am literally going to skin you alive." He picked up his knife again, pressed the tip of the blade into Randall's leg. "Ya ever seen a man skin a deer? Gotta do it patch by patch. Ya won't bleed out right away, won't let ya. Eventually infections gonna set in. You're gonna got gangrene. It'll be as long and painful as possible." He pressed the blade into the flesh.

Randall's eyes were wide with terror and pain. "And if I… if I take you, you'll let me live?"

Daryl rolled his eyes. "If she's alive and safe, I won't kill you."

His voice shaking, Randall agreed to it.

Now it was Daryl's turn to smirk maliciously. "Can't promise that her brothers won't though."

* * *

It was well after daybreak when a truck pulled into the camp. For a split second, probably brought on by exhaustion and pure desperation, Kristen thought it was Daryl's pickup. Her disappointment faded quickly though when she and Michonne realized that the formerly packed truck was now empty, save for the driver.

For the next hour they lay silently, listening intently to the hushed conversation between the three guards and the lone remaining member of the scavenging party. They seemed to be deep in an argument. Eventually, the returned man grabbed some fresh supplies, loaded his gun with ammunition and started to load up the truck. Hesitantly, one of the three guards followed suit.

The two women exchanged a significant look. Michonne didn't have to say anything for Kristen to understand that this was their chance.

Michonne waited until the truck pulled out of view before speaking. "We aren't going to get another shot at this. With only two of them, I think we stand a chance."

The woman's face held an expression of stern determination, but Kristen wasn't so convinced. Even without the bindings, she didn't think that she'd be able to take down one, let alone two, of those men. And the last time she'd try, they'd beaten her to a pulp. This time they'd surely kill her.

Michonne could read the hesitation on her face. "What other choice do we have? Do you want to risk your life now for the chance of getting back to your family and freedom or do you want to resign yourself to a lifetime of being raped and abused by a load of scum?"

There was no choice.

Kristen steeled herself and leaned in closer to listen to Michonne's plan.

"The thing is, we have to get them on their own. Take them out one at a time, it's the only way."

"Yeah but, by the time they go to sleep tonight, the rest of them will be back."

Michonne lowered her eyes. "Sleeping isn't the only thing you do alone in a tent." She raised her brows suggestively.

Understanding her meaning, Kristen adamantly shook her head. "No..no. You've _got _to be kidding me."

"It's a simple plan, Kristen. You just get him to take you into his tent. Bat your eyelashes or something. Then when he's distracted, grab that knife from his belt and end it."

Kristen couldn't help but roll her eyes. "You make it sound so easy. Why don't you just do it then?"

Michonne looked at her sideways. "For some reason, I think you'd make a more believable actress."

"Look, I wouldn't even know how to kill him. I'll just end up making him angry and then they'll kill us both."

"I can give you clear directions on what to do with the knife. Besides, don't you think that I'd prefer that to what's going to happen to us if we stay here?"

Kristen could see real fear behind Michonne's eyes. She had been holding out some futile hope that Daryl or her brothers would come and save them yet. But at this point, it seemed less and less likely.

"If I do this, I'll be like a fucking Bond girl." She spoke dryly, no hint of humor.

Michonne laughed for the first time in days.

Michonne spent the next half an hour trying to describe the exact location of the femoral artery, the best technique to sever it. "Make sure you cut it at an angle so that it's impossible to close up. A man can bleed to death from that in about three minutes."

"Yeah but, even if this works – won't the other guard come running at the sound of it?"

"So you're gonna have to grab the gun and shoot him." Michonne's tone was disturbingly cavalier. Kristen had never hit an animal with her car, let alone ended the life of a human being. And it seemed like today, she was expected to end two.

"Kristen, it's not murder. It's survival. You'd do it for your family, right? So do it for yourself."

It took ages for Kristen to compose herself. She kept repeating in her head to herself like a mantra _Bond girl, Bond girl, Bond girl._ Eventually she set her sights on the slightly less intimidating (and more handsome as it was) of the two guards. When she found him leering at her as they had all done, she purposefully caught his eye. She lowered her lashes in a way that she hoped was sultry, but most likely just looked frantic – she was shaking like a leaf.

With his attention caught though, she called over to him.

"Please, I haven't eaten in days now. Don't you have anything for me?"

He laughed lecherously. "I sure have something you could have, darlin'. Why don't you come on it and try it?"

Having to clear her throat to rid herself of the fear she replied. "Is that a serious offer or are you just teasing me?"

The response clearly took the guard by surprised. He looked to the other guard and laughed. "Think Tony would be pissed if I tried out the merchandise?"

The other guard just shook his head, smiling. "Looks to me like Tony ain't here. I'm gonna go check the perimeter. If Tony comes back, I didn't see anything."

The man came over and roughly lifted her, began dragging her to his tent. "Glad it's you sweet thing and not that spider of a woman you're tied up with."

_Bond girl. Bond girl. Bond girl._

She took one last desperate look at Michonne. The woman's face was a mixture of apology and quiet respect.

The guard threw her down on the floor atop a pile of mismatched bedding. Her turned her over on her stomach and started pulling at her jeans. Kristen began to panic, this wasn't how the plan was supposed to go.

She did her best to hide her horror and sound enthusiastic. "What's the rush!? We have all day here."

Puzzled, he turned her over and looked at her intently. She did her best to smile sweetly. In the next instant, he was on top of her, his lips smashing into hers. She yelped in pain at the way her still bound arms became unnaturally bent.

"Please! Please…my arms."

She could see it in his eyes that he was considering untying her. She laughed flirtatiously. "You know we can have a lot more fun if you let me use my hands."

He grinned at her toothily. Reaching for his knife, he turned her around and untied her. She winced when she caught a glimpse of her bare wrists. The skin had rubbed raw and bloodied from the repeated contact with the rope. She was surprised when he bent over to untie her legs as well. Until she realized that he probably thought that now they'd be easier to spread. She could feel her skin crawling.

He laid the knife down on the ground, along the edge of the tent. If she could just get him distracted, it was in reach.

_Okay, this is it._

Doing her best seductive routine, she slowly pulled him down on top of her, before rolling over him to a straddling position. He laughed and eyed her up lewdly. "You like being on top sweet thing?"

She swallowed down the vomit building in her throat and simply nodded. Gingerly, she moved down his body between his legs. It was pathetically apparent how hard he was already. Her hands went to the button of his jeans and he shuddered.

_Fucking idiot_ was all she could think. Suddenly, he pushed her hands away aggressively and quickly pulled down his own jeans and briefs. The motion caught her off guard and for a moment she lost her nerve. It reminded her that she wasn't actually as in control of the situation as she thought. He gestured to his cock, demanding that she do something with it.

He lay flat, closed his eyes in anticipation – no doubt expecting to feel her pleasuring him at any moment. His eyes shot open though as he felt the cold hard blade of his knife entering his inner thigh.

"You dumb fucking slut!."

Blood was literally gushing from his leg, Kristen had never seen so much. She was so shook up from inflicting the stab that she didn't move fast enough. He lunged for her and wrapped both hands around her throat.

She gasped desperately as he choked her. With each second, she was overcome with a greater sense of panic. Her mind went fuzzy, her vision began to blacken around the corners of her peripheral. _This is it, _ she thought – not even noticing the warmth of the guard's blood that was seeping all over her torso and legs. She was just losing consciousness when his strength gave out. The blood loss was too much for him.

He collapsed in a heap on top of her. She began swallowing in mouthfuls of the cool, delicious air. The sudden influx of oxygen was almost enough to quell her body's uncontrollable shaking.

She had just killed a man.

There wasn't any time to ruminate on the realities of what had happened though. Quickly, she took stock of the tent. Grabbed his knife and pistol and ran. Outside, she was alert for any sign of the other guard. It had to have been a miracle that made him decide to go for a walk. More likely, he was just hoping to avoid the sound of their sex.

Kristen shuddered at the thought of it. It had come too close.

Michonne's face lit up at the sight of her. Breathlessly, she knelt and began hacking at the bindings with the knife. With Michonne free, she felt world's better already. Wordlessly, Michonne ran into the biggest tent. She returned with guns and a sword unlike anything that Kristen had ever seen.

It was at that moment that the other guard returned from his patrol. Before he even had a chance to register the sight of them, Michonne opened fire and he was dead. Kristen felt so overwhelmed by the violence of the day, that she couldn't even appreciate the fact that they were free.

Michonne lowered the gun and pulled her into a tight embrace. "You did so well. We're only getting out of here because of you." Kristen smiled at the woman. Her relief at escaping the situation hadn't sunk in yet. She still felt like there was an insurmountable task before her.

She looked around the camp, unsure of what to do next. Wished that they had left a working vehicle. On foot, she had no idea how to get back. Michonne squeezed her arm. "You're already thinking about how to get back to that damn farm."

"I need to. You could come with me, you know. I know they'd be happy to have you."

Michonne turned from her and cast her eyes across the forest_, focusing in on two of the walkers chained to the trees_. "That's not really the kind of place for me."

Hurriedly, the two women searched the camp for supplies. Loading up two large duffel bags, they evenly split any weapons and food they were able to find. It felt strange to be heading off into different directions. The events of the past few days had bonded them so closely together. Michonne's farewell had been surprisingly tender and Kristen found herself sad to see the woman go. The woman had asked her multiple times if she wanted to journey off with her instead, but Kristen knew she couldn't possibly.

Even without a clear idea of where the farm was – she felt better just heading in the general direction. So she set to walking.

* * *

Daryl's motorcycle roared behind the SUV. Sean at the wheel, Randall tied up in the backseat, giving directions. He had finally agreed to lead them to the camp – but only after Daryl started to wedge his knife between the kid's fingernails. Daryl found that he couldn't be around the kid for another second without trying to kill him. Sean had decided that it would be best for Daryl to take the bike, less Randall be throttled to death while on the road.

He had no idea what to expect at the camp. He knew very well that he and Sean could be walking right into the middle of a death trap. That seemed rather irrelevant though. The other men in the group had offered to come, if they only had more time to prepare. But Sean and Daryl couldn't wait another hour.

When the SUV finally pulled to a stop at Randall's instructions, Daryl cursed at what he saw. Aside from the walkers roped to the trees, there were two mulling around the camp. But no sign of any people. Daryl quickly sent bolts through both of the loose walker's eyes.

Leaving Randall tied up in the car, he and Sean frantically ran about the camp – desperate for any sign of her.

Sean shook his head in frustration. "She's not fucking here. How do we even know if she ever really was?"

Daryl motioned to the center of the camp. "Look, there are cut bindings here. You can see from the dirt that people were laid on the ground here. And look here, these tracks are way too light to be a grown man."

He followed the tracks in the dirt, his hopes rising when he saw them leading off in the direction of the farm. "You wait here in case she comes back. I'm gonna follow these." Sean nodded, warily eyeing the walkers tied to the trees.

Daryl moved quickly and silently through the woods. The tracks he was following were disjointed and scattered, as though the person wasn't sure which way to go. He ran for what felt like ages.

He could hear her before he could see her. Several yards ahead of him, she'd take a few steps and then rest against a tree. It accounted for how odd the tracks were, she could hardly walk. It was a strange sensation, his stomach dropping at the sight of her – yet his heart jumping to his throat.

His sprinted towards her, calling out her name. He had to stop himself from just running up to her and grabbing her in his arms.

She turned on the spot, a gun drawn on him. It took her a moment to realize that it really was Daryl. She thought it had been a side effect of the concussion. The gun fell from her hand and she stumbled forward, trying to meet him.

Tears sprung to his eyes at the sight of her up close. Not only at the sheer relief of having found her, but at the brutal reality of her injuries. The side of her face was battered; her hair and clothing seeped with blood, the bruising of fingerprints were evident at her throat.

He couldn't think of anything to say. He just quietly pulled her into his arms, holding her only a fraction of how tightly he really wanted to. Finally, his voice raw with emotion and concern, he spoke. "Baby, you're covered in blood."

Her voice was small and hollow from inside his arms. "It's not mine."

**Authors Note: Thanks everyone for the feedback! Next chapter is pretty much going to be all fluff. Give you guys a bit of a rest before more tragedy takes part. ;)**


	21. Chapter 21

**MIGHTIEST OF GUNS**

**CHAPTER TWENTYONE**

Daryl felt Kristen stiffen within his arms and he withdrew. His mind raced through at least a dozen horrible possibilities and he wanted to kick himself. _Who knows what she had been through? If those men had touched her, if those men had…_ And then here he was, practically constraining her against him. He removed his arms and was surprised to feel hers wrapping around him instead.

She burrowed her face into the crook of his neck and clung to him as though holding on for dear life. He couldn't tell if she was merely trembling or if her body was shaking, racked with sobs. One hand gently snaked around her waist, holding her securely, while he reached to stroke her hair.

Kristen never wanted to move again. As long as she stayed like this, in this position with him – everything would be all right. She wouldn't have to face anything, not what had happened, not what she had done. She wouldn't have to look her little sister in the eye after she had killed a man.

The blood had begun to dry, leaving a fine crust over her skin and clothing. Her hair was matted down in it. She didn't know how Daryl could bear to look at her, let alone touch her. She had once tried to wound him by calling him barbaric, but she couldn't imagine that he had ever even looked this bad. She highly doubted that he had ever ended a man's life.

And suddenly, she irrationally hated him for it. He spoke all the time about wanting to protect her and keep her safe, but he couldn't. Nobody could.

It wasn't that she blamed him for what had happened; she was just overwhelmed by the brutal wakeup call of it all. She had been so preoccupied with being afraid of the walkers, that she had forgotten what a threat people where. She hadn't thought about the evil that they could do. She hadn't thought about the evil that she might have to do herself.

Suddenly, she pushed him away and simply started walking back towards the farm. She knew it was miles, but she needed the trek. She had been counting on using the trip to sort through all the shit in her mind, gain a sense of composure before facing the others. As happy as she was to see Daryl, she just wasn't ready to.

Daryl watched her stalk off, perplexed and concerned. He had never seen Kristen like this before. Usually on point and prepared, it seemed like she had crumbled within herself. When he called after her, she ignored him and continued walking. She was acting completely irrationally.

He had seen this behavior before. From buddies coming home from tours of duty, from Merle. Post Traumatic Stress. Her mind was so wrapped up in whatever it was that she had been through, that at the moment she couldn't get past it. Even though the threat was gone, her defensive instincts had yet to shut off. Not wanting to startle her or make things worse, he followed her gently, walking along beside her.

"You know, Sean's back at the camp."

She stopped walking but didn't turn back. Her face fell in a way that he could only describe as ashamed. "I'm not ready to see them yet."

His brows raised in surprise. He thought that would have had her running in the opposite direction towards her brother. She leaned against the nearest tree and gently slid down, sitting on the forest floor. Daryl chewed the side of his thumb, wondering what to do next. He could always throw her over his shoulder and carry her back, but he knew that would freak her out more than anything at this point. He could go back and get Sean, bring him here to try and talk some sense into her. But he didn't want to leave her alone like this. Even moreso, he didn't want to disrespect her wishes. So he did the only thing he could think to, planted himself on the ground beside her.

She looked at him quizzically for a second. She had expected him to argue with her, drag her back with him. "What are you doing?" She couldn't keep the suspicion from her voice.

"What does it look like? I'm gonna sit with ya till you're ready."

"I can't go back like this, look at me. I look worse than you did when you were shot."

"You think they're gonna give a damn what you look like? All that matters is that you're safe. Sean's back there right now with the SUV…"

"Just Sean?"

The interruption caught him off guard and he faltered, "And I guess, one of the guys who took ya too. A teenager."

Her eyes went wide. "What? How?"

Daryl could see her getting herself worked up and reached an arm out to calm her. "I guess Rick and Glenn had an altercation with that group, the kid got injured and they took him back to the farm."

"And he just told you that I was here?"

Daryl's expression darkened. He wasn't proud of the torture he had inflicted on Randall and wasn't eager to share that with her. Yet, the fact that he was sitting with her now, safe and relatively sound clearly made it all worth it. Kristen spared him from having to answer by asking another question.

"What's going to happen to him now?"

Daryl looked over her injuries again, the way she looked so shaken and narrowed his eyes. "I'll fucking pull him out of the car and put an arrow through his head now if that's what you want."

Kristen felt like she was going to throw up. She didn't want anyone else to die today, not because of her. She thought back to Michonne, the woman's stern demeanor, her hard as diamond resolve. Kristen thought of how easily she had shot down that guard, how seemingly unaffected by it she was. Kristen wasn't ready to be that person yet.

"No, please. You can't kill him. But I can't ride back to the farm with him either. You guys go back in the car and I'll walk. I need to clear my head."

Daryl could tell that there was something she wasn't telling him. He didn't want to know what had happened to her, yet at the same time, felt as though he had to. He could only trust that she would open up to him when she was ready. Gently, he brushed his thumb over her arm. "I brought my bike. I'll tell Sean to head back with Randall and you can ride with me if you think you're up to it."

For the first time since he'd first found her, something like relief washed over her face.

He watched her curiously, "You really don't want to see your family yet, huh?"

She simply gestured to her blood stained clothing.

Daryl needed to head back to the encampment to let Sean know that his sister was safe. Despite having the guns, he refused to let Kristen wait alone in the forest. After everything they had been through, he wasn't about to risk losing her again. He had to coax her to follow him back to the camp, assure her that when they got there, she could wait for him just inside the woods – Sean wouldn't see her. She seemed so childlike that it troubled him.

Sean had been adamant about seeing her the moment that Daryl returned. Almost as if he didn't trust that he had really found her. It took a bit of fierce arguing on Daryl's part to get Sean inside the SUV and headed back to the farm.

It was only after the SUV's engine became a light roar off in the distance, that Kristen emerged from the woods into the clearing. She tentatively glanced around the camp but clearly had no interest in lingering.

She stuck to his side like glue but refused to enter any of the tents as he rummaged for any forgotten supplies. He was looking for something. Finally coming across a small pack with women's clothing – the kind someone might wear to work out in. He didn't know if the sizes were right, but it had to be better than clothing caked with blood. He threw the clothing inside his own pack.

Coming outside, he took her by the hand and led her over to the bike. He got her settled in the seat before climbing on. It suddenly struck her that this was the first time she had ever ridden with him. She wasn't sure what the correct seating/holding on protocol was, but at the moment didn't care. She wanted, no needed, to be as close as possible. So she slid up in the seat until she was flush against his back and wrapped her arms tightly around his torso. The engine revved to life and they left that godforsaken place behind.

She could see why people loved riding motorcycles, the rush of it all. But the way the wind was in her face, bit at her eye socket painfully and she ended up resting her forehead against his back. At the same time, she didn't want the ride to end.

She was so busy burrowing her face into his vest that she didn't even notice when he pulled off course. When the bike came to a stop, she looked up to find that they were not at the farm at all. Before her was a clear pond and smooth rocks, basking in the sun. She wanted to weep with joy at the sight of it. In fact, when she turned to him – her eyes had already welled with tears.

He couldn't help but smile a bit, pleased that he had come up with something to make her happy. "Come on, quit cryin'. Go on, wash up."

Any hesitancy that she might have felt about undressing in front of him before had clearly passed by this point in their friendship. She was out of the mangled jeans in a matter of seconds. Regardless, he looked away respectfully.

"Aren't you coming in too?" He looked up to see her standing bare before him, her hands covering her breasts. He was about to grin at the sight before his wandering eyes took in the purple pattern of bruises along her ribs.

He clenched and unclenched his jaw several times before answering. "Nah, you go ahead. I'm gonna stand over here and keep watch for ya."

"Come on, last time you had a bath was probably back at the C.D.C." There was a spark of mischief in her eyes and despite her teasing; it brought him a feeling of relief. For the first time she started to seem more like herself.

He rubbed the back of his neck and sighed. He really hadn't wanted to get himself wet, but he couldn't say no to her. He shrugged out of his vest and workshirt. Undoing his belt, his jeans came off easily – he hadn't noticed how much weight he had lost the past few months. Thinking, he grabbed the bandana from his pants pocket and brought it with him to the shore.

Making his way into the water, he had to admit that it felt pretty nice. He swam out to the center of the pond, treading water when his feet no longer touched the sea floor. Kristen lingered in the shallow water near the shore, gingerly rubbing sand and water over her skin to remove the blood and grime. He had to admit that she looked rather beautiful naked in the sun and he was grateful for the cold water to keep him from getting too hard.

"Ain't you actually swimmin'?"

She smiled, but a blush crept to her cheeks. "No, I'm okay here!"

"Wha, can't ya swim?"

"I can swim just fine, thank you. I just happen to enjoy it here on the shore." Her indignation and reddening cheeks led him to believe otherwise.

He couldn't help but laugh. He had been running around the woods and jumping into creeks naked since he could walk. It was bizarre to him that everyone didn't have the same upbringing.

"Come on in then! You were the one who hounded me to go swimmin' and now you ain't even gonna join me?" He swam closer to the shore until he was able to stand, the water coming up just to his hips. He knew he was winding her up and he enjoyed it. "Ya can at least come in here to standing."

She pursed her lips in hesitation but slowly rose and waded over to him. He smiled, his eyes lingering on her figure. "See, not so bad is it?" Playfully she rolled her eyes at him.

The water reaching her waist, she raised her brows. "Happy? I'm swimming now?"

His eyes flitted up and down her body, her arms slowly moving through the water at her sides. His face lit up with mischief. In the next instant, he lunged for her – his arms wrapping around her back and behind her knees, lifting her like a child. He began carrying her towards the deep-end as she squealed and pounded on his chest.

"Put me down! Put me down!"

"Oh yeah? You want me to put ya down?" He made a show of releasing her from his arms, but kept them hovered protectively around her. As she started to sink into the water, frantically she grabbed at his shoulders and clung to him. He had to admit that it was adorable.

"Shh, relax. You really think I'd let you drown? After all that? Just hold on to me." He moved her arms so they locked behind his neck, her legs wrapping around his waist, as he tread water for the both of them. She smiled lazily and closed her eyes. For the first time realized how exhausted she was, realized that this was the first she felt relaxed in days.

She opened her eyes to find him watching her intently. Pulling herself closer to him, she gently pressed her lips to his. It was funny, after everything that happened, she was so hesitant to see her family. As if they would look at her and instantly see the blood on her hands. She knew it was irrational, that she had done only what needed to be done. But it didn't change the fact that it had changed _her._ Didn't change the fact that it would change the way they saw her, if they knew.

But with Daryl, things still felt so natural and easy. Without him saying a word, it felt as though her burdens became his. And a shared load was always easier to bear. She felt a burning in her eyes and suddenly realized that she was crying.

Daryl pulled back and looked at her with concern. "Ya wanna talk about what happened now?"

She swallowed thickly and nodded silently. Daryl swam them over to the flat rocks, helped her climb up and took a seat beside her. Her newly clean legs dangled in the water. She put her hands in her lap and looked down, like a scolded child. When she spoke, her voice was soft.

"I'm being stupid, I know I am. I mean, I know what happened wasn't my fault…I just feel so different now."

He sat quietly, waiting for her to continue.

"I should have waited. It's just, I didn't think that you were ever going to find me. I thought I was on my own and I did something. And now I feel so ashamed."

He could feel his anger rising and couldn't help from cutting in. "Did they touch you?" The question he had been dreading the answer to.

Her face flushed but she shook her head. "No, not really. Well, it didn't come to that." She cleared her throat and swallowed. "Daryl, I killed one of them. I went into his tent and stabbed him when he wasn't looking. It was like in cold blood."

Despite the tearful admission, Daryl wanted sing with joy. His heart ached for her but the relief that she hadn't been overtly violated; the relief that she had been able to save herself was overwhelming.

He wrapped an arm around her shoulder and placed a kiss on the top of her head. "Kristen, ya hafta know you did nothin' wrong. What ya did was no different than killin' a walker. Those men were monsters. And ya know, Rick and Glenn – they killed the rest of that group in town. You was just protectin' yourself. And every other woman they could have done that to."

A small weight lifted in her chest. She hadn't really thought about it that way. "But still, I killed a man."

He sighed and looked at her seriously. "And the shitty part is, chances are it won't be the last man that you hafta kill. But you'll pick up and move on. I don't hafta tell ya that things aren't the way they were before the world went to shit. I'm just sorry that I didn't get there before ya did."

"To spare me having to do it?"

"Because I wanted to fuckin' murder them myself."

She scoffed lightly at him and found herself feeling loads better already. Just confessing to someone already made the ordeal seem farther in the past.

"I've been so selfish with my own feelings. I should be rushing back to that farm to see the kids, but instead I feel like I'm just hiding here."

"Ya needed some time, ain't nothin' wrong with that. Ain't missed much at the farm anyways." His eyes darkened with the lie. It just didn't seem like the appropriate time to burden her with the news of the walkers in the barn. The news of Sophia. She had been through so much the past few days; he didn't see why she shouldn't at least have a few hours of peace.

He pushed himself off of the rocks back into the water below. He lifted his arms and gestured for her to jump down. She inched herself closer to the edge but hesitated.

'Come on, don't be a baby. I'll getcha."

Sliding down from the rocks, she landed in front of him with a small splash. Wading over to the shoreline, he returned with his bandana. Dipping in the water, wringing it out – he gestured for her to tilt her head back. Gently, he began to clean the grime and gravel out of her cuts.

"Pity this ain't saltwater, but just cleanin' it out should help with the pain."

She winced slightly at the sting but found the feeling of his fingers on her cheek comforting. "Hershel's not going to be pleased when I ask for more antibiotics."

"Don't you worry about that. You're gonna get all the medicine ya need."

"Yeah? You going to strong-arm an old man?"

"If that's what it takes hell yeah!" He sounded so sincere that she couldn't help but laugh. She couldn't believe how things had changed between them since that first day on the highway. Suddenly, her heart felt lighter than it had in weeks.

"Remember the day we met? When I punched you? And now look at you, playing nurse for me. Who would have thought you were just a big softie." She looked up at him fondly. "I'm really glad I hit you."

He had to laugh. "Yeah well, gotta say it was the first time someone threw a punch at me without gettin' their teeth knocked out afterwards." Tenderly he dabbed at the cut below her eye. "First for a lotta things."

The honesty in his voice and implications caught her off guard. She could feel her cheeks flush and felt compelled to annoyingly try and lighten the mood. "I didn't realize at the C.D.C. that it was your first time. If I had known, I would have been more sensitive about your virgin body."

Frustrated, he rolled his eyes at her. Clearly, she was as bad at hearing declarations of feeling as he was at expressing them. "You're so annoying, ya know that." He meant it, but couldn't help from shaking his head affectionately.

"Yeah, but you love me anyways." The word escaped her lips before she realized it. Quickly, she opened her mouth to try and retract but Daryl had already withdrawn his hand from her face. He wore a funny expression, one that she had never seen before from him. He smiled shyly and she felt her heart do a flip.

"Come on girly, let's get you dressed and safely home. And this time I ain't turnin' around when you're gettin' changed. Ain't lettin' you outta my sight ever again"

**Author's Note: D'awwww fluff **** Hope you all enjoyed it! xox**


	22. Chapter 22

**MIGHTIEST OF GUNS**

**CHAPTER TWENTYTWO**

The clothes Daryl found where a bit too small. The elastic waistband of the pants cut into her hipbones uncomfortably but she would never dream of saying anything about it. Not after everything. And the worrying thought crossed her mind that if they weren't careful, before long she could be drowning in the smaller clothing. But for now, just being in clothes that weren't caked with blood felt like a small blessing.

Bathing in the pond had almost served a metaphorical purpose. She felt as though some of the shame and anger over having killed her captor had washed away. Or perhaps it had just been her talk with Daryl. In any case, she was no longer afraid to look her family in the eye.

Still, she felt a big uneasy returning to the farm. Knowing that Randall was going to be there was creating knots in the pit of her stomach. The thought of him being around Val kind of made her wish that she had let Sean and Daryl take care of him back in the camp. At the same time, she felt as though there had been enough violence for one week.

It suddenly struck her that Daryl had made no mention of Sophia. She cringed inwardly at her own lack of self-awareness – how could she have been so self-involved as to not even think to ask of her? Knowing how dedicated he was to searching for her, no mention of her could only be bad news. It was obviously not the best time to breach the subject, being on the back of a motorcycle and all. But Daryl surely made note of her arms tightening ever so slightly around his waist.

She knew that her family was going to be so relieved to have her back, but she wasn't sure how the rest of the group would react. It wasn't like they had all been out scouring trying to find her. She couldn't even blame them. For a while there, she herself had been so sure that it was a lost cause. Not only would it have been a physical risk to go out and look for her, it would have put the safety of the farm at risk as well – less her captors should find a way to follow them.

Even within the dynamics of the group, she kind of felt as though she kept to herself. Sure, she always helped with the cooking and cleaning. She'd sit and chat with Carol or Andrea. But she wasn't someone like Dale that people seemed to trust, to go to for advice. Outside of her family and Daryl, she didn't think that her absence from the group would make much of a difference to anyone.

This would explain her surprise when the motorcycle revved to a stop and she found a dozen people awaiting her with open arms. Their welcomes were so genuine and full of relief that it renewed her sense of belonging within the group.

She smiled shyly but warmly at the sea of faces around her. Her eyes scanning for her own family – own blood family. At this point, she supposed they were all kind of kin with one another.

They spotted her before she could find them. Her two brothers came sprinting over from the direction of the farmhouse, their expressions strangely sheepish. Any of the irrational shame or guilt she felt immediately washed away at the sight of them. Beaming, they each in turn pulled her in for a bear hug – Sean lifting her off the ground. She couldn't stop the laughter from escaping.

In the background she could hear T-Dog's voice muffled. "Finally, at least something good happens for once."

Before she could have a chance to turn and ask what he was referring to, she could hear a small high-pitched voice yelling her name. She could feel the force of a child's body propelling into her. If Val had been any bigger, she would have knocked Kristen flat on her back.

Val was hysterical with what Kristen could only assume was relief. Her voice was strained and shallow as her breath went in and out in short bursts. For a second, Kristen was afraid that an asthma attack was coming. But the little girl seemed to calm down when she wrapped her arms around her. Then the tears came.

Bending at the knees, Kristen lifted her little sister up and was struck by how slight the child was. A soon-to-be nine-year-old girl shouldn't be so easy to lift, especially for a woman of her size and strength. Pushing the fear of stunted growth to the back of her mind, she did her best to console her sister. Kristen would have laughed at the girl's dramatics if her fear didn't seem so genuine.

Stroking her sister's hair, she gently tried to shush her. Segments of the group wandered off, surely trying to give her a bit of privacy with her family. Those remaining smiled understandingly at Val.

"Honey, it's okay. See? I came back. Everything is just fine."

"But…but you left and then you were gone. And…and I didn't think you were ever gonna come back." She choked back a sob.

"Well, I'm here now aren't I? And I bet everyone took great care of you when I was gone."

The girl nodded solemnly. "Maggie and Beth let me sleep in the house with them and Andrea served me breakfast." She sniffled. "Mr. Daryl promised me that he'd bring you back but I didn't believe him."

Kristen looked over at Daryl who seemed to be deep in conversation with Sean and Liam. She felt a warmth in the pit of her stomach. "Oh, did he now? I guess you'll have to tell him thank you." With the pad of her thumb, she wiped away Val's tears. "I think that's enough crying for now, don't you? You should be happy! I'm home!"

The tears stopped, but her frown stayed firmly in place. "After Sophia, I was so scared that the same thing had happened to you."

Kristen's smile faded instantly. Her gazed turned, searching for a sign of Carol. She hadn't noticed the woman among the group and now it made sense. A part of her was relieved that Carol hadn't been there to witness her happy family reunion. Lowering Val to the ground, she gave the girl a tight squeezing hug and had her run along to wash up. It had to be close to dinner time. At least, she hoped it was. After nearly 36 hours without food, she was feeling rather light on her feet. And not in a good way.

She watched the young girl jog over to the house and felt herself let out a deep sigh – one that she had been holding in for the past two days.

Things were okay now.

Except they weren't. Not really.

Something horrible had obviously happened to Sophia. Something still had to be done about Randall. She could only imagine that he was hidden away somewhere on the farm. The thought made the hairs on the back of her neck stand straight.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a gentle hand on her shoulder. Surprised, she turned to find Hershel smiling sympathetically at her. "We're all happy to have you back, you should know. But we need to get you looked at. Those cuts look clean enough but we can't risk infection setting in."

"That's very kind of you Hershel. But I'm sure they're just scrapes and bruises. You should save the antibiotics for something more serious."

The man let out an amiable chuckle. "You've certainly changed your tune. Last I remember, you were yelling at me for wanting to conserve my supplies when that fellow who stole my horse got shot."

Her cheeks flushed. She opened her mouth to speak, but Hershel spared her having to come up with a response. "At the very least, we're going to take a look at your side. Now, I don't know if you realize this but your posture seems unnaturally aligned, you're favoring one side too heavily. I had a pony that did the same thing when its ribs were bruised. Tried to jump over a bramble bush before it was strong enough."

There was something so comforting about the man's fatherly tone that she found herself eager to follow him. If only to lie down. She turned to catch a last glimpse of her brothers and Daryl but was surprised to see that they were already gone.

"I don't know what the fuck Rick is thinking. I don't care if it's Hershel's dying wish to keep that boy alive." Sean's eyes were bright with anger, the muscles in his arms twitching.

Daryl leaned against the barn door, chewing the side of his thumb. He had half a mind to go in and throttle the kid to death himself. But at the same time, the kid had upheld his end of the bargain. He had led them to Kristen and she was back safely. Regardless of his own personal feelings, he had a code that he had to live by. If the kid had to die, it wouldn't be by his hand.

"Killin' the kid ain't gonna solve anything at this point. And the rest of his group ain't there no more. Maybe Rick is right, we dump him someplace far enough away that he ain't comin' back."

Sean's cheeks went red with frustration. "You can't be serious. After everything that happened, you're okay with just letting him walk free? Come on man, you saw what they did to her!"

Daryl thought back to how fragile Kristen had seemed when he found her. The root cause of it hadn't truly been anything that Randall's group had inflicted upon her. It had been due to the violence that she herself had to perpetrate. It had shocked her and shaken her to the core.

Sean here probably thought of himself as a tough guy. He'd probably been in his fair share of fights and won a good number of them. But that didn't mean that he was ready to experience taking the life from another human being. Daryl wasn't even sure that he himself was ready for that.

A clear divide seemed to be forming in the group on what to do with the prisoner. Some like Shane and Sean seemed hungry for the death of the prisoner, while others like Dale were adamantly against it. Rick was of course in the middle, failing at trying to keep the peace. From his vantage point, Daryl wasn't sure where he stood. The fact that Kristen was home safe and relatively untouched made the whole matter seem rather irrelevant.

Still, he found the breakdown of the group troubling. Too much had happened: the demise of Sophia, the Randall situation, Lori's alleged pregnancy and the strange tension building between Rick and Shane. Daryl couldn't help but wonder how long they could sustain themselves a group.

It was all Kristen could do to keep her eyes open. It was hard to believe that it had only been a few days earlier that she had sat up in this bed with a wounded Daryl. That he had absentmindedly caressed her then unmarred skin and kissed her. And now here she was, being poked and prodded by a veterinarian. She could smell dinner in the kitchen but in her fatigue had almost forgotten her hunger.

"Luckily, it doesn't seem like any of the ribs are cracked. Most likely just badly bruised." She sat up as Hershel gently wrapped a cool compress to the inflamed area. "Cracked and fractured ribs are especially dangerous because there's always the risk of puncturing an organ. Now I usually wrap the horse's ribs up tight to prevent misalignment but it's important for you to breathe normally."

The image of a cow sprawled across the sickbed suddenly came to mind and the corners of her lips twitched at a smile.

"Now the antibiotics should treat any possible infection. I just wish I had something left for the pain stronger than tea." The chamomile he had left for her was comforting to sip, but did nothing for the pounding in her head or the ache in her side.

"You've done more than enough Hershel. I'm so sorry for all the trouble."

"Think nothing of it, my dear. You just rest. I'll have Beth try and keep that little girl of yours occupied so you can have some peace and quiet." Kristen smiled at Hershel as he turned to leave. Pausing in the doorway, he spoke again. "You know, my second wife already had a son when we got married. And that boy was my son as much as if he had been my own. And it hurt just as much when I lost him." Kristen didn't have to ask to know what he was referring to. And despite her exhaustion, her chest suddenly ached to have her siblings in the room with her. Hershel smiled at her kind of sadly as he quietly shut the door behind him.

Sleep overcame her so suddenly that it wasn't until a few hours later, when the sound of the door creaking open awoke her that she realized that it had come at all. She mumbled grumpily, expecting to shoo away one of her siblings, possibly Daryl. When she heard Lori's voice, soft and tentative, she awoke up at once.

The two women were friendly enough, but of all the members of their group – Lori was the person she'd expect least to be visiting her bedside. The thin woman always seemed too anxious, too busy with her own worries to interact heavily with the others. But here she was now.

"Ah, I'm so sorry. I was hoping that you were awake. I can come back in a bit, you get some rest hun." The brunette smiled apologetically.

"No, no it's okay. I was getting tired of sleeping anyways." Her lame attempt at humor was lost on Lori. The woman was visually distracted. She seemed uncomfortable and unsure of what to say. Kristen gestured for her to take a seat on the edge of the bed and for the first time noticed the pill bottle present in Lori's forever fidgeting hands.

Lori cleared her throat. "Look, I don't know how to say this so I'm just gonna go ahead. I don't know what happened to you. I can't even imagine what you might have been through and it's not my place to pry. I just want you to know that you aren't alone and that there's no reason that anything that happened to you can't still be undone, at least a little."

A bit perplexed, Kristen's gaze fell to the bottle of pills. Taking in the label, her eyes widened in understanding. "Morning After pills?"

"There isn't any shame in taking them after what you've been through. You didn't ask for any of that, ain't like you'd be giving up your baby."

It took a second for it all to sink in. Kristen sometimes forgot how different things were here in the south, how much more conservative they were about things like gender roles and reproductive rights. Lori had mistaken her confusion for shock and disgust. When in reality, Kristen herself had taken the pill before and felt no shame besides being stupid enough to have to fork over some money for the co-pay. But better safe than sorry. She knew another kid would have sunk them underwater.

There was no reason to make them think she was amoral though. Touched by Lori's thoughtfulness, she shook her head resolutely. "No, luckily it didn't come to that."

The relief on Lori's face was clear as she touched her free hand to her heart. "Oh, thank God. When Daryl told Rick what Randall had said, we all thought the worst. I don't think any of those boys slept the entire time you were gone. It's good to see a happy ending for once."

Both women lingered in a sort of melancholy sadness for a moment. They both knew it wasn't really a happy ending. Maybe a single victory in battle, but there was a long war ahead.

"Lori, where did those pills come from anyways? Doesn't seem like the kind of thing that Hershel would be keeping in his medicine cabinet."

Lori's face fell, emitting a laugh that sounded forced and unnatural. "I guess you go away for a few days and come back to everything changed." Shaking her head, she looked Kristen in the eye. "I'm pregnant."

The news was the last thing that Kristen had expected. Without thinking she burst out, "Oh my god, Lori. I'm so sorry." Suddenly realizing that it wasn't the best response, her cheeks burned and she tried to backtrack. "Just that I mean, it must be such a shock. It doesn't mean that it won't be fine though…great even. Especially…"

This time Lori's laugh was genuine. "No, I understand. It's not exactly…opportune right now. I think it's important to Rick to keep it though. We'll see how it goes."

Kristen could feel her affection for the woman growing in bounds. As much as Lori had to be going through, she still made the effort to come and try and spare Kristen from the same experience, the same burden. "It really will be okay Lori. We'll get everything you need. I never had a kid, but I read 'What to Expect When You're Expecting' like six times when my mama was pregnant with Val."

Lori smiled almost wistfully. "You know, I debated taking these pills myself. I almost didn't even tell Rick what was going on. Poor Glenn had to be the one to help me. I just can't see what kind of life a child can have nowadays. There isn't a second of the day that I'm not worried about Carl. Worried that even if he's safe, what this world will do to who he is. Prayin' that he turns out like his daddy but at the same time prayin' that he doesn't." Her eyes widened, as though realizing that she had maybe talked too much. "Look at me complaining, you should just be resting."

"No, it's good to talk about it. I'm the same way with Val. I feel like I spend all my time trying to protect her from what's out there, that I almost forget who she actually is. I forget that she must have problems and fears outside of walkers and starving to death. Before long, she's going to need her first bra, have her first period. I'm not ready.

"She keeps losing her friends, nearly her family. And it's not just her. Every day Sean seems angrier and more aggressive. I don't know what he's going to do half of the time. Liam seems more and more quiet. Sometimes I look at him and I can almost see the light going out behind his eyes.

"I feel like I just keep trying but no matter what I do, no matter what any of us do, it's completely unsustainable." Up until this point, she hadn't realized that her eyes burned with tears.

Lori moved, wrapping her arms around Kristen. She allowed the younger woman to lean into her shoulder as she whispered words of encouragement. "It's okay hon. Ain't nothing wrong with letting it out. Especially after a bad few days."

Suddenly, Kristen felt incredibly young. As though she could have been any young woman crying to her mother, despite Lori being perhaps only a decade older. Between Hershel's fatherly manner and now Lori's support paired with her own exhaustion, she was feeling particularly vulnerable. And for a few moments, it felt good to just let herself cry.

Gently, Lori removed her arms and helped Kristen settle back onto the bed. Maybe it was just the pregnancy hormones, but she was feeling especially maternal towards her. Drained both physically and emotionally, Kristen was asleep in a matter of minutes. After ensuring that she was deep in rest, Lori rose quietly and nearly walked into Daryl in the doorway. The man moved so quietly, she didn't know how long he had been standing there. But judging from the concern on his face, he had been there for enough of Kristen's distress.

"She doin' okay?" His voice was a gruff whisper.

"As well as any of us are. I think she just needs to catch up on her sleep."

Daryl nodded slowly. He had never been overly fond of Lori. He always thought she was difficult and too overemotional, a bit shrill. But after seeing how patient and giving she had been with Kristen, he wondered if perhaps he had judged her too harshly.

Lori gave him a clipped smile as she exited the room. "If you're gonna sit with her a while, I'll bring up a plate and food and leave it in case she wakes up. Bet she's gonna be starving."

Quietly, Daryl dragged a chair to her bedside, dropped his bag on the floor. Rummaging through it, he procured a handful of arrows and a sharpening blade_. If he was gonna be playin' nursemaid, he'd at least be productive while doin' it._

As promised, Lori appeared a few minutes later, silently leaving a tray of food on a table by the door. If Daryl had looked up from his task, he would have seen the small smile she gave him.

Kristen slept restfully for what felt to him like hours. He didn't know if he was glad about it or not. He was happy that she was getting some rest, but he had been hoping to talk to her or something. Suddenly he felt ridiculous and sheepish. What was he doing in here, watching a woman sleep? He could almost hear Merle's voice in his head. Like he was some lonely girl waiting by the phone on a Friday night.

Shaking his head at himself, he gathered up his things (probably more loudly than he meant to) and was headed for the door when Kristen stirred. Her voice was languid, the consonants drawn out sleepily. "Why are you going? Is it morning?" She didn't open her eyes but her brows furrowed. _Had she known he was here this whole time?_

"Nah, it ain't mornin'. Middle of the night still. I was gonna go take a turn at watch."

Even half asleep she pouted and Daryl couldn't help but smirk. Remembering the way she had grouchily sprawled out on him in bed at the CDC, he wondered how she could be both so supple and so demanding in her sleep.

"Lori told me that you didn't sleep the whole time I was gone. Someone else can keep watch, you need rest too."

Daryl stood frozen halfway between the bed and the door. He wasn't sure what she was asking of him, if anything. Hell, he wasn't even sure if she knew that it was him who was in the room with her.

Her impatience must have lulled her from her sleep because the next thing he knew her eyes were fluttering open and she was looking at him curiously. "Daryl, what are you doing?"

The back of his neck burned with frustration. _What was he doing?_ He always found himself so thoroughly confused by women. Was she asking him why he was still here and not in his tent sleeping? Was she asking him why he wasn't with her? Was she asking him why he was seemingly watching her sleep like he was some kind of deranged stalker?

Sleepily, she let out a small groan and half-smiled at him. "I swear Dixon, sometimes I don't know if you're completely infatuated with me or just terrified of me." Her eyes fixed on his and she grinned at him lazily. "Maybe it's just a bit of both."

She watched him squirming awkwardly and affection tugged at her heart. She wondered how he could be so take charge at times, show no hesitation in bossing her around, telling her what to do on matters of safety – but when it came to ever expressing his true feelings, when it came to claiming the things he wanted, he was so hesitant. At least, she thought this was something he wanted. It had to be, otherwise he wouldn't be in here, right?

She sighed softly. "Please stay with me?"

Without a word, he removed his shoes and vest. Pulling the cover back, he climbed into the bed beside her, careful not to jostle her too badly. His prior frustration and insecurity seemed to melt away when his head hit the pillow. He was suddenly overwhelmed with his own physical exhaustion and the sheer relief that she was still here.

This time he didn't hesitate to slide up against her, his hand finding the soft curve of her hip, nestling her firmly against him. Unlike their first awkward night spent in a bed together, this time it felt natural and relaxed.

She sighed contentedly. "Aren't we a funny little kind of couple."

He smiled despite himself as his lips found the top of her head. His voice muffled by the mess of her hair, he mumbled. "Go to sleep."

**Authors Note:** **Sorry for the delay in updating. Was getting settled into a new (and my FINAL) semester at school. As always, Reviews and the like are always very appreciated! Hope y'all students have a happy new start! x**


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